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CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN -WORLD; 

OB 

EXPERIENCES IN A VOYAGE TO EUROPE, 

PEINCIPALLX EH 

IN 1847 AND 184S ; comprising sketches in the mintatube -woiods, 

PARIS, BRUSSELS, AND LONDON; 

TOGETHER WITH 

INCIDENTS BY THE WAY, NOTED SCENERY, NATIONAL CHARACTER AND 
COSTUME, DELINEATIONS OF SOCIAL LIEE, VIEWS OP THE PRINCIPAL 
PUBLIC MONUMENTS, CHURCHES, PALACES, GARDENS, GALLERIES 
OF PAINTINGS, MUSEUMS, LIBRARIES, LITERARY AND BENEV- 
OLENT INSTITUTIONS, PUBLIC LECTURES, ETC. 

AND WITH THREE NEW FEATURES, VIZ.: 

FEENCH LIFE 05f SHIPBOARD, EEYOLUTIGN OP FEBETJAET 

IN PAKIS, AND A PROFESSIONAL VEIW OF PUBLIC 

AND PRIVATE SCHOOLS. 



.5> 



BY A 

TRAVELLER AND TEACHER. 



BOSTON: 

WHITTEMORE, OTLES & HALL. 
1855. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, m the year 1853, by 

ALONZO TRIPP, 

in the Clerk's office oi the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



andover: w. f. draper, 

Stereotyper and Printer. 



PEEFACE 



If presenting this volume to the public, a Tvord or two in 
explanation of the circumstances -which gave it birth may 
not be deemed inappropriate. The tour which forms its sub- 
ject was the fortune of a respite from active duties, delight- 
fully spent in breathing a freer atmosphere, and seeking to 
enlarge the horizon of observation and thought. On leaving 
home, I truly had no intention of attempting a book. I felt 
rather to be following the onward spirit of self-culture, united 
to an early, undying love for travelling, than indulging the 
hope of ever framing out of what I might see, a picture ac- 
ceptable to others. But it has been thought, since my re- 
turn, that the somewhat original manner of performing the 
journey, the important nature of several subjects, not usually 
spoken of by European travellers, that naturally came under 
my observation, and the thrilling scenes of the Revolution of 
Fej^ruary, were circumstances to justify the pubhcation. 

As much as has been written upon Europe, there remain, 
I am persuaded, rich fields unexplored ; and who would not 
encourage learning more of people with whom our relations 
are becoming every day more intimate ? 

I have described things as I found them, or, at least, as 
they appeared to me ; and in recording my opinions, I have 
not stopped to consider the prejudice of party or sect. The 
narrative style has in general been followed, as best adapted 
to interest youth ; and if the book shall thereby gain attrac- 
tiveness to supplant the seductive novel, no healthy-minded 
reader will, I am sure, regret it. If I have been prolix, it 



iv PEE FACE. 



was to impart a more natural and vivid interest to the pic 
ture of the route. The next thing to travelling for one's 
self, is to accompany the author in a faithful reproduction of 
the incidents of the journey. I have often felt, myself, in 
reading books of travels, that they not unfrequently leave 
oujb much of what would be of greatest interest to the reader ; 
minute incidents, perhaps, but containing the clew to impor- 
tant principles. To discriminate between the puerile and the 
instructively minute, is the province of a philosophical judg- 
ment. 

As to the literary character of the book, if not so good as 
might be wished, it is yet such as circumstances have per- 
mitted. Written in the intervals of arduous and engrossing 
duties, with my right hand always free for the labors of a 
sacred trust, inequalities of style would be expected. It 
will be further remembered, that even with the gifted, har- 
mony of structure, and force, and beauty of language, except 
with the practiced composer, are the fruit of time and pains. 
Slight errors in the first edition, should such appear, must be 
attributed to my having been at a distance during the pro- 
gress of the work through the press. Where my Notes have 
failed me, I have consulted what I deemed the best authori- 
ties. 

I desire, in conclusion, to express a lively gratitude toward 
numerous friends who, since the announcement of the book, 
have in various ways testified to me their kindly sympathy 
and encouragement. That it may not disappoint any reason- 
able expectations they may have formed, and at the same 
time be instrumental in advancing in the community the true, 
the good, and the beautiful, is the fervent desire of the 
author. 

Alonzo Tripp. 

Village Seminary^ Jan. 18, 1853. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEE I. PAGi. 

About Leaving — Thoughts on Leaving Home — Glowing Visions of 
the Old World — Travelling a Passion with the True Teacher 9 

CHAPTER IL 

Departing from the Beaten Track of Travel, the only way to gain 
Correct Ideas of Men and Things — The Beauty and Fragrance of 
the Primrose of Domestic Affection — A Nice Welsh Family — A 
Fastidious Young Lady 12 

CHAPTER IIL 

Skill of Yankee Captains — Improved Manners of Hackmen in New 
York City — Appearances in the Streets on Sabbath Morning — 
My Neat Welsh Hotel — Health-Blooming Landlord and Lady — 
Smoking and Beer-Drinking in the Bar-Room — A Mental Glance 
of New York — Unreserved Kindness of the Boarders — A Stroll 
among the Shipping — Pleasing Reminiscences of Golden Days of 
Boyhood — Rolling Tide of Immigration — The Yankee always 
Travels in the First Style 17 

CHAPTER IV. 

Thanksgiving to the Ncav Englander away — Observance of the Day 
by the English and Welsh Boarders — The Advantages of going in 
a French Vessel — Odd and Inspiring Sensations on Sailing from 
the Wharf— The Pilot and his French 25 

CHAPTER V. 

Emotions on Losing Sight of Land — Model of the Vessel, a National 
Beau-Ideal — Comparative Strength of the Vessels of France and 
England — Fare, and Style of Living on Board — Sociality at 
Meals — A Portrait of our Three Apprentices 32 

CHAPTER VI. 

Heavy Weather — The Sailor a Stranger to Fear — The Sublimity of 
a Dreadful Gale — The Accurate Reckoning of the Captain — One 
not the Best Teacher of his own Language — The Intense Desii-e of 
getting in at the Cruel Sport of Fortune — " 'T is sweet to be 
Drowned in one's own Waters " — The Thrill of a Narrow Escape . . 4i 

CHAPTER VII. 
Land upon the Old World — A Moody Fit of the Captain — Sand- 
wich Islanders — Elevating Effects of Ocean Scenery upon the 
Soul — Sabbaths at Sea — Sports of the Captain — Pig-Butchery — 
Arrival off Havre — Entering the Port — The French Woman's 
1* 



vi CONTENTS. 



Charge for Beef-Steak — French Mode of Living — The Prospect 
from the Heights of Angouville — Mode of Teaching Children — 
Improvement suggested for American Mothers 51 

CHAPTEE VIII. 

Reception by Mons. P. — American News a small space in European 
Journals — Notre Dame — Museum — Virgin Mary — Origin of 
Havre — New Dock — American Ships 69 

CHAPTER IX. 

Honesty of the Erench to Travellers — Leaving the City — Scenery 
through Normandy — Picturesque Costume of the Farmers — Arri- 
val in Rouen — Kindness of Landlord and Lady — Market-Women 
under my Window — Grandeur of Rouen Cathedral — Richness of 
Interior — RoUo, the Norman — Church of St. Owen — Statue of 
Voltaire — Palais de Justice — Maid of Orleans — View from the 
Cote de St. Catherine — An Historical Mental Picture — The An- 
cient Port of the City — Supper — View of the City 77 

CHAPTER X. 
Annoying Trait of Erench Landlords — Comparative Excellence of 
Railways in France — Emotions on Arrival in Paris — Hotel du 
Havre — A Scene with the Landlady — Kindness of Madame David 95 

CHAPTER XI. 

Shopping in Paris — Fascinating Manners of the Shopwomen — Beau- 
tiful Appearance of the Streets — Fashions Different in Paris, Lon- 
don, and New York — Napoleon Column — Garden of the Tuile- 
ries — Library of St. Genevieve 103 

CHAPTER XII. 

Letters from Home — The Effect of Contemplating Aright Noble Pub- 
lic Edifices — Boarding School — Pupils out on Promenade — Arc 
de Triomph de I'Etoile — Minister of Public Instruction in Paris — 
Cimetiere du Pere la Chaise, the Paris of Cemeteries — Vice Rector 
at the Sarbonne — Pantheon — Description 115 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Public Schools — Monsieur Lefebre — Order and Precision of the 
School — Corporal Punishment Prohibited — Mode of Teaching 
the Alphabet — Drawing — Singing — Advantage of the System — 
Its Defects — Municipal School Fran^ais — The Principal and his 
Professor — Plan of the School — Preparatory Department — Notre 
Dame de Lorette 135 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Communal School — Character of the School — Private Day and 
Boarding School by the Fr^res — Plan of the School — Singing — 



CONTEXTS. vii 



Municipal Scliool Superior — An-angement of the Building — Dra\v- 
ing — Church St. Eustache — Cathedral de Xotre Dame, compared 
^v-ith the Rouen Cathedral — Bell — Splendid Interior — Coronation 
of Napoleon — English Episcopal Church — Muddy Streets — Prac- 
tice of the Ladies — Hotel des Invalids — Exterior — Interior — 
!Militaiy School — "Woman among the Lower Oi-ders 147 

CHAPTER XY. 

Palace of the Louvre — Former Richness in Art — Characteristics of 
the several Schools of Painters — Sunday at the Louvre — Influence 
of the Art upon the Masses — Sculpture, Petrified Beauty — Marine 
Museum — Royal Institution for the Blind — Benefits of the Noble 
School — Professor-Lecturer of Chemistry — Garden of Plants — 
Description — Adult and Juvenile Evening Schools 168 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Palace of the Luxembourg — Rich Paintings — Institution for Deaf- 
Mutes — Mode of Teaching — Teachers of French — Palace of the 
Fine Arts — Church of the Madeline — Its Magnificence — Nuns at 
the Church of St. Germain I'Auxerrois — Rural Restaurant — Mad- 
ame David — Reunion of Ouvriers — Bishop of Paris 202 

CHAPTER XYII. 
To Versailles — Chateau — Vastness — Splendid Grounds — Sump- 
tuous Interior — Hotel de Brissac — Condition of Domestics — 
Normal School 221 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Revolution of Februaiy — Cause, Reunions — Italian Independence 

— Just Milieu of Mr. Guizot — More Remote Causes — Louis Phil- 
lippe — Stormy Session of the Chamber of Deputies — Evening 
School for Journeymen and Apprentices — Palais de la Bourse — 
Fortifications of Paris — Place de la Concorde — Parisian Cafe's — 
Dancing — -Model Office — Theatre Franqais — Orchestra — Lec- 
tures at the Sarbonne — Monsieur Frank 231 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Gen. Scott under Arrest — An Ambiguous Character — Parisian Mor- 
als — Loveless Marriages — Left-Hand Mamages — Legalized Vice 

— Hospice d' Accouchement — Hospices des Enfans Trouvers — 
Causes, etc. — Manufactory for the Crown Tapestry — Palais Roy- 
ale — Sumptuous Interior — Chapel of St. Ferdinand 256 

CHAPTER XX. 

The Grand Banquet at Paris — Opinions of the Approaching Crisis — 
The Gloomy Eve of the Fated Morrow — Sudden Tacking of the 
Ship of State — Mental Scenes in the Bosom of the Government — 



CONTENTS. 



Madame the Duchess of Orleans — Monsieur Guizot — Paris in a 
Posture of Defence — Thrilling Scenes of the 22d 269 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Revolution Continued — Suavity and Kindness of Mr. Rush — Cham- 
ber of Deputies — M. Guizot in the Tribune — Resignation of M. 
Guizot — Reading Rooms — Alarm in the Night — Cause — De- 
parture — Appearance of the Streets — Departure from Paris — 
Amiens — Appearance of Belgium 286 

CHAPTER XXII. 
Arrival at Brussels — Officials — A "Worcester Gentleman — Appear- 
ance of the City — Lady of the American Minister — Palais du Con- 
gress — Chambers of Parliament — Belgium — Theatres — Resigna- 
tion of Louis Phillippc, and Flight of the Royal Family — Cafes 
and Boulevards — Schools — Hotel de Ville — Palace of Fine Arts 304 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Symptoms of Revolution in Belgium — Communal Schools— Cathe- 
dral of Gudule — Religious Sects — Lamartine — Marriage in Eu- 
rope and the United States — Academies — Botanical Garden — 
Influence of Lamartine — Carnival — Hero-Worship — Shopping — 
Carpet and Lace Factories 316 

CHAPTER XXTV. 

Departure for Brussels — Canal Boats — Bruges — Cathedral of Notre 
Dame — Dietetics — Groups of Musicians — Arrival of a Steamer 

— Embark for Dover — Dover Heights — Custom House — Smug- 
gling — Dover Castle — Leave for Loudon 340 

CHAPTER XXY. 
London — Beggars — Tower of London — Dungeon — Crown-Jewels 

— St. Paul's — Sir Christopher Wren — The Thames Tunnel — 
River Steamers — Trafalgar Square — Nelson Monument — British 
Museum — West-End — Buckingham Palace — Westminster Abbey 

— Parks 357 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Hospitality of the English — Gallery of Paintings — Popularity of 
Queen Victoria — Disaifection — St. Paul's School — Guildhall — 
Royal Exchange — Bank of England — Bridges — Houses of Par- 
liament — St. James's Park — Prince Albert — Nonnal and Moral 
School — East India Docks — Elihu Burritt — Quakers — National 
Schools — House of Lords — Shopkeepers — Homeward Bound .... 383 

CHAPTER XXVII. 
European Schools 403 



CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD 



CHAPTEE I. 

ABOUT LEAVEirG — THOUGHTS OX LEAVING HOME — GLOWING VIS- 
IONS OF THE OLD WORLD TRAVELLING A PASSION WITH THE 

TRUE TEACHER. 

"What a crowd of deliglitful anticipations throng tlie imagina- 
tion of an American, as lie leaves his home to visit the Old World ! 
It is there that the human race had its origin, and long has it been 
the grand theatre of its numberless exploits. Treading the classic 
ground of his forefathers, he can trace the Avindings of civilization 
to their source, and mark the different epochs in the world's his- 
tory. Character may there be seen variously modified by politick 
institutions, and social life, in its endless phases, keeps the travel- 
ler constantly alive with renewed interest. It is, too, on the East- 
ern Continent, to which his thoughts are now turned, that the 
human mind has received its widest expansion, its fullest develop- 
ment, and the treasures of intellect so profuse, so infinite in form, 
which meet him at every step, fill his mind with engrossing and 
profound interest. But when he comes to the arts — to painting, 
sculpture, and architecture, he is translated to new worlds of mor- 
tal creation, to revel in a sublime existence, which before was but 
dimly shadowed to his imagination. 



10 CHESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

If with sucli feelings the traveller ordinarily looks forward to a 
tour in Europe, these feelings are doubly intense, when the tourist 
is a teacher. Accustomed, from the duties of his vocation, to deal 
with mind ; necessitated to learn its conditions, to trace the causes 
which have led to certain results in its formation, and especially to 
know the agencies by which it is successfully moved, he hails, 
with peculiar pleasure, so grand an opportunity to look abroad 
among the nations of the earth ; to compare their diverse con- 
dition ; to observe the peculiar traits of individual character ; to 
note the changes which the hand of time has wrought in the social 
fabric; to study the modes of thought, feeling and expression 
which give coloring to ideas ; and, in fine, to take a general sur- 
vey of the basis and structure of society, in connection with the 
causes which have led to its development. 

Not only is the teacher to be conversant with mind anatomically 
and physiologically, to understand its structure and functions, and 
the conditions of its healtliful growth ; but he must be familiar with 
the subjects of the mind, the varied forms of knowledge which 
incite to action its powers, and constitute^ the woven fabric of its 
essence. History, science, language, and poetry are but so much 
of the teacher's stock in trade. Is it surprising, then, that he 
should long to gather largely and afresh from the primitive source, 
— that he should pant to tread the very soil hallowed by the most 
glowing associations, about which he has so often conversed with 
his pupils, — that he should hasten to view the astonishing and 
transcendently beautiful combinations of form, in the fine arts, 
the simple principles of which it has been his daily task to teach, 
' — that he should be thrilled with delight at the prospect of hang- 
ing with ecstasy upon the living tones, palpitating with the heart's 
keenest emotions, and giving spirit and grace to those languages, 
the bare forms of which have afforded him so much gratification 



TEAVELLING A PASSION WITH THE TEACHER. H 



in Ms daily study, — tliat his very soul should leap with pleasure 
as it flies on the wings of imagination to gaze on those sublime 
scenes in nature, which have lent inspiration to the poet, and 
moved him to so lofty a flight of song, — sweet numbers which, 
though stripped of half their glow and beauty, by the absence of 
the scenes which inspired them, have yet elevated his soul to a 
loftier existence, and opened to it new sources of purer enjoy- 
ment? 

Nor is it enough that the teacher should clearly comprehend 
the mind, and be perfectly familiar with the varied subjects which 
employ its energies. It is not sufficient that his own mind is an 
ample storehouse, filled with principle, fact, and apt illustration 
systematically arranged, ready to flow out at bidding to elucidate 
every subject as it comes up for investigation. He must possess 
himself the quintescence, the impalpable of knowledge, obtained 
not from books, but from large intercourse with men, and free 
draughts at nature's well. With this, he must permeate the 
character of his pupils. He must infuse his own spirit into their 
very being, — distil the dew of his soul into the waters of their 
life — if he would hope fully to arouse them to lofty purpose, and 
intense action. 

Yes, others may delight to travel; but with the true teacher, the 
artist, the man whose hfe is in his work, travelling will be a pas- 
sion ; and though he may suppress a sigh, as with tearful eye and 
saddened heart he thinks of the endearing ties he is called to sun- 
der, and the changes which inexorable time may work in his dear 
circle or beloved flock, before he is permitted to embrace or greet 
them again ; yet he will soon rise above these pathetic emotions, 
his spirit strengthened by the glorious prospect from the fields of 
intellectual treasure before him, and the increased usefulness 
which his sacrifices, and sweet and noble toil wiU give him. 



CHAPTEE II. 

DEPARTING FROM THE BEATEN" TRACK OF TRAVEL, THE ONLY 
WAY TO GAIN CORRECT IDEAS OF MEN AND THINGS — A FAS- 
TIDIOUS YOUNG LADY — A NICE WELSH FAMILY — THE BEAUTY 
AND FRAGRANCE OF THE PRIMROSE OF DOMESTIC AFFECTION 
— THE HEART-BREATHINGS OF THE HOMEWARD-BOUND EMI- 
GRANT. 

Boston, JVbv. 20th. I called this morning on board of one of the 
Cunard steamers, lying at East Boston. These are certainly 
noble ships, and all honor is due to the genius of him who con- 
ceived the grand design of linking the two continents by steam- 
navigation. Yet, he who journeys abroad with an especial view 
of gaining a more intimate knowledge of men and things, will not 
hesitate to turn off from the more beaten roads of travel, and pur- 
sue some of the less frequented paths. He will thus gain in de- 
lightful interest what he may lose in pleasurable ease ; and if he 
is not swept over the route so delectably, he will have this loss 
fully compensated, by gaining more vivid impressions of nature, 
and receiving a more enlarged horizon of thought. 

Returning, I stepped on boai-d a ship, the only vessel in port, I 
learned, soon to sail for England or France. I found the accom- 
modations narrow, but neat and comfortable enough for a person 
of moderate desires; but the captain, who was pacing the wharf 
in all the dignity of his profession, replied so curtly to my in- 
quiries, and with an air so unmistakable to an eye the least expe- 



DEPARTING FROM THE BEATEN TRACK. 13 

rienced in nautical character, that I bid him good morning at once, 
resolved to look farther, for the means of a pleasant transit across the 
Atlantic. A winter passage with a morose captain, was by no means 
to be ventured upon. The officers of the packet-ships acquire by 
habit a civil and obhging behavior toward passengers, even when 
those qualities are not a part of their natural disposition ; but the 
captain of a transient ship is influenced by no peculiar motives to 
induce him to deviate from his ordinary line of conduct. Indeed, 
his position on board, in rank above all others, and his relation to 
the ship's company, clothed with almost arbitrary power, called to 
govern men accustomed to despotic rule, who would frequently 
take undue advantage of a mild discipline, he acquires, uncon- 
sciously to himself, an imperious temper and stern manner of 
action, which, when they happen to be united with a naturally 
passionate and reckless disposition, combine to render him not 
altogether a most agreeable social companion for a solitary sea- 
voyage. 

New Yorlc, Nov. 21s;. -Left Boston last evening, in the six 
o'clock train, to come by the way of Stonington. This route is 
preferred, I believe, to that by the way of Fall River, by the 
more timid class of passengers, as being safer at this season, — 
the distance by water being considerably less. The Fall River 
route, however, by the superior boats on the sound, the liberahty 
of the Company, and gentlemanly and polite attentions of the of- 
ficers on the whole route, has justly won the favor of the public ; 
and when we were aroused from our warm slumbers, and has- 
tened into the cold midnight air, to exchange, first from the boat 
to the cars, then to the boat, then again to the cars, and finally to 
the boat, we began to feel that we had paid dearly for our choice 
of routes. 

An unusually large number of passengers were along with us ; 
2 



14 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



and, in changing from the boat to the cars, there were the usual 
tumultuous and hurried scenes exhibited, with more or less con- 
fusion ; some bustling for bits of luggage, or toting or dragging 
pieces along with them, to the annoyance of their neighbors ; 
others solicitous for their female companions, who were scamper- 
ing to meet them, or being half pulled along through the dark, 
or dimly-lighted way ; or some father hastily uniting the mem- 
bers of his group, and, with many words of encouragement and 
caution, uttered in quickening and paternal tones, sees them safely 
in the right car. The manner and expression of the company 
were as varied, too, as their character. A few, at the given sig- 
nal, snatch their valises or carpet-bags, and press right on through 
the crowd, jostling any that may happen to be in their way. 
Some others are more deliberate in their movements, and more 
mindful of the rights of their neighbors ; a large number, appar 
rently unused to travelling, or unacquainted with the route, appear 
anxious — a little disconcerted — put questions to any one, for the 
resolving of their doubts, and then follow on with the moving 
tide, sometimes hastening, then retarding their movements ; while 
a small number, adepts in travelling, appear quite at home ; and 
by their loudly repeated commands to the waiters, and dignified 
movements, seem desirous to attract attention to their vast supe- 
riority in matters pertaining to travel. 

I could not but notice a delicately beautiful young lady, just be- 
fore me, exquisitely dressed, and leaning on the arm of her 
brother. She was fainting, she said, of thirst ; and would give a 
kingdom for a single draught of cold water. A sturdy and gene- 
rous hand quickly extended her some, in a tin vessel. She 
turned away with an air of disgust ; she could not bear to allay 
even her intolerable thirst from a cup that had been drunk out of 
by others. A half dozen voices eagerly assured her that the 



A MCE WELSH FAMILY. 15 



cup was intact, and pressed lier to partake. She would not be- 
lieve them, and passed on with the crowd, bearing an expression 
of over-squeamishness, that caused a suppressed tittering among 
the several witnesses of the act. Two or three foreigners near, 
looked at each other in surprise ; and doubtless noted the incident, 
as material for future use. This little trait, forms of course, no 
fair illustration of American female character ; but it maj justly 
be feared, that among the many excellent qualities of our lovely 
countrywomen, a false dehcacy in matters of form, too often ap- 
pears, as a blemish. 

Travelling alone, on a long journey, the mind, freed from the 
engrossing details of petty affairs, observes narrowly, noticing in- 
cidents that might escape the attention at other times. Near me, 
in the cars, was an interesting group, whose pecuhar accent be- 
trayed them of English origin. Their kindly nature, evinced in 
the most trivial act for each other's comfort, and the deep affec- 
tion, modulating the very tones of their voice, linking them in a 
sweet bond of family union, completely charmed me. How beau- 
tiful the flower of love that springs up in the bosom of an affec- 
tionate family ! It not only delights the eye, but fills the very 
air you breathe, with fragrance. Seeking the first opportunity 
for an acquaintance, I learned that they were Welsh, and had 
been residing in Canada, where the father, employed by the Eng- 
lish government in making surveys of the unexplored territories 
of the British crown, had so improved his former condition, as to 
enable him to revisit the scenes of his youth, and to take over 
with them to the New World, some of their relatives. Undoubt- 
edly, the bright anticipation of so soon seeing Old England, and 
embracing their long-separated friends, had enlivened their hearts, 
and lent an unusual warmth and glow to their expression. How 
keen the pleasure of the emigrant, as, improved in worldly pros- 



16 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



pects, he turns his steps toward the dear home of his fathers ! 
With some of his hard-earned wealth, he gilds the declining 
years of his aged parents, in ameliorating then' physical condition 
— while he staggers their imagination with recounting the mar- 
vels of the New World ; and overwhelms their hearts with pater- 
nal joy, as he presents for a blessing the youthful scions that 
have sprung up to him, amidst the fertile lands of the distant 
West. The pohtical economist, in estimating the advantages that 
have resulted to the world, by the discovery of America by Co- 
lumbus, may well take into the account this element of the immi- 
grant's improved condition. 



CHAPTER III. 

KILL OF YANKEE CAPTAINS — IMPROVED MANNERS OF HACK- 
MEN IN NEW YORK CITY — APPEARANCES IN THE STREETS 
ON SABBATH MORNING — MY NEAT WELSH HOTEL — HEALTH- 
BLOOMING LANDLORD AND LADY — SMOKING AND BEER- 
DRINKING IN THE BAR-ROOM A MENTAL GLANCE OF NEW 

YORK — UNRESERVED KINDNESS OF THE BOARDERS — A STROLL 
AMONG THE SHIPPING — PLEASING REMINISCENCES OF GOLDEN 

DAYS OF BOYHOOD — ROLLING TIDE OF IMMIGRATION THE 

FANKEE ALWAYS TRAVELS IN THE FIRST STYLE. 

^^PROACHiNG the citj, the beautiful scenery that skirts the 
ErtSt rwer, was shut out from our view, by the dense mist, occa- 
sioned b/ the change of temperature in the air during the night, 
that hung ever the rippled bosom of the stream, through which 
we were aoijelessly gliding with the speed of an arrow ; while 
the raw morning air, and the feeling of loneliness that involunta- 
rily creeps over one, on entermg a new place, kept most of us 
within the cabins. 

Now the engiue ceases ; all the passengers crowd upon the 
deck ; there are one or two backward turns, some little manoeu- 
vreing, when our floating palace shoots in by the pier, directly to 
the spot marked out for her, with a precision and ease, that mark 
the dexterity of our Yankee captains, in whatever craft they un- 
dertake to manage. Then comes the bristling of passengers, ac- 
companied with the confused noise of the cabmen, who almost 

2* 



IS CRESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

deafen you with their repeated importunitieKS for your luggage. 
This is not a little embarrassing to those who travel for the first 
time, and annoying enough to every one. In justice, it must be 
observed, in passing, that this feature of travelling life has mate- 
rially improved in the State of New York, within a few years. 
The time was, when it had become absolutely intolerable ; when 
passengers approached New York or Albany with feelings 
akin to those of seamen, when passing through the famous Straits 
of Caraccas, at the time the buccaneer held sway in those 
seas. 

Accepting the invitation of my new acquaintance, to take rooms 
at the hotel kept by a friend of his, in Walker street, I leisurely 
strolled along thither, with my valise in hand. On leaving the 
pier, what was my surprise ! It being Sabbath morning, the for- 
eign population were out ; and the German and the French lan- 
guages greeted my ear with as much frequency as my own ; and 
then so densely thronged were all the streets, that I should really 
have supposed myself in London, rather than in New York, as I 
formerly knew it. And here let me say, for the benefit of those 
who intend travelling abroad, and who would go in a simple style, 
and be free from the trouble and expense of looking after, 
and removing much luggage, that it is better in all respects to 
leave your trunks and extra suits at home. A few changes of 
linen, and an extra coat, with the articles of toilet, all of which 
can be put into a valise, will answer all the purposes of comfort- 
able travelling. In any of the cities, and especially in those of 
Europe, articles of clothing can always be purchased, when 
needed, with the advantage of being in the latest style ; while the 
anxiety and trouble avoided, and the expense saved, which would 
be something of an item in a long journey, are really of consid- 
erable importance. 



WELSH LANDLOED AND LADY. 19 



Arrived at the hotel, I found the landlord and his ladj, a 
charming young couple, with countenances blooming with health 
and vivacity. They were extremely neat in their persons and 
dress, and the most sociable and obliging people in the world. I 
was immediately shown my room, which was both commodious 
and airy, and contained an ample bed, as clean and voluptuous as 
I should have expected to find in the house of a friend. The 
warm breakfast was awaiting us ; and we found the fare, though 
simple, both excellent and abundant; while the clean, sanded 
floor of the dining-room, the snowy-white napkins beside our 
plates, and the gleaming knives and forks, all served not a little 
to heighten the relish of the meal. Indeed, the whole house was 
a pattern of neatness, in wide contrast with the shabby elegance 
of some of our so-called genteel boarding houses. There was, 
withal, pervading everything, an antique quaintness and simplicity, 
which brought to one's mind some of the better sort of English 
inns, described by English writers, inducing a feeling of home, so 
congenial to the heart of a stranger. The only material draw- 
back to the pleasantness of the house to a traveller, was the 
smoking of pipes, drinking of beer, and fierce and boisterous 
conversation, that was ever going on in the bar-room. It really 
seemed that the genius of the immaculate weed and the glorious 
old ale, had usurped absolute possession of that part of the edi- 
fice, and was having things entirely his own way. But, aside 
from this feature, the house was greatly to be commended for 
its many excellent qualities. Thus noting the sahent features of 
your hotel, may seem trivial to the reader ; but let me assure him, 
that should he ever travel, he will find his personal comfort and 
disposition of mind so greatly to depend upon the qualities of his 
hotel, as hardly to forbear making mention of that part of the 
path of his travel, ever afterward. 



20 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

To sketch the details of a week's sight-seeing in New York 
city, would form a long, and what might justly be considered an 
inappropriate chapter in a book professedly of foreign travel ; al- 
though not even an American, in a visit to the emporium of the 
New World, would fail of ample material for the employment of 
his pen. The almost fabulous growth of the city in wealth and 
population; the gigantic spread of its commerce, with ships 
whitening every sea ; the ever-rolling tide of foreign immigration, 
crowding the shores of its majestic harbor ; and, at the same time, 
the equally increasing domain of those sublime institutions, the 
School, the Church, and Asylum, generously encircling the em- 
pire of mind, — and, on the one hand, rapidly assimilating the 
foreign population, as it reaches its shores, to the elements of re- 
publican character; and, on the other, antagonizing the sordid 
power of wealth, combined, form a series of agencies, so grand in 
outline, so rapid in march, so unceasing in action, and, moreover, 
so powerful in results, as to astonish and elevate the mind of the 
beholder. In their contemplation, surrounded as he is by the 
evidences of their greatness, he feels as if living in an age of 
powerfully quickened energies, and of high moral grandeur ; and 
the pulses of his life beat fuller and quicker. The ineffectual 
struggle of the fine arts for a seat upon the throne of mind ; the 
vicissitudes and fate of authors and other literary men in their 
rugged and toilsome ascent up the hill of fame ; the unbounded 
success of the gigantic printing press ; the cosmopolitan phase of 
the city, in which are represented the costume, physiognomy, and 
specific character of almost every nation upon the globe ; the 
phantasies of public amusements ; the caprice ° of fashion ; the 
sombre aspect of vice and crime; the abject state of destitution; 
and the sore annoyance of petty larceny and deception, together 
form so many features in the physiognomy of this life-beating me- 



A STEOLL AMONG THE SHIPPDsG. 21 



tropolis, for the study of the traveller ; and unsusceptible indeed 
must be that muid which is unmoved in their contemplation. But 
I must not dwell on these and many other features in the physi- 
ogmy of this magic-growing city, — topics rich in reflections. I 
will, therefore, skip a few pages (as the schoolboys say), taking 
permission, however, to glance at a topic or two in coimection with 
the incidents of the way, just to keep up the thread of the narra- 
tive. 

Most of the boarders at our house were of the better sort of 
English, Scotch, or Welsh people, on their way to the mother- 
country, or home, as they call it, to visit their friends. They 
were, as might be expected, in the best of spirits, — cheerful and 
lively, with hearts overflowing with emotion, in confident antici- 
pation of the happiness that awaited them. Happy souls ! might 
no cruel turn of the treacherous wave over which they were soon 
to be wafted, disappoint their hearts' fondest wishes ! 

The conversation naturally turned upon a passage. They had 
nearly all secured theirs, in different ships ; and they all solicited 
that I would make mine, each in his particular vessel ; and the in- 
vitation was extended with that unreserved cordiahty which left 
no room to doubt of its sincerity. It would have afforded me 
sincere pleasm-e to accept, especially had they all been going in 
one ship, — for who does not love to be with open and warm- 
hearted people, particularly when they are, as in this case, sensible 
and intelligent ? but I feared that my plans would not permit. A 
stroll among the shipping in port, with me a favorite way of 
spending a leisure hour when m the city, awakened the usual re- 
miniscences of that period of my early life, when, with golden 
scenes overhead, and flowers beneath my feet, I danced gaily 
over the bounding billow, not only of fleeting life, but also of 
the ocean. There is much in a sailor's hfe, to captivate the 



l^ CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



imagination of a bold and s^oirited youth. Its changes ; its thril- 
ling scenes ; the varied scenery of countries ; the peculiar cos- 
tumes and manners of different nations ; with that abandon mode 
of life, so charming to the undisciplined character, — all render it 
in consonance with the fire and buoyancy of free and careless 
life. There is something in the calling, too, that enlarges the 
mind, and elevates the character, making ample amends for the 
rough and angular points it leaves upon its apprentices. Our glo- 
rious sea-captains, for their noble bearing, enlarged views, and gen- 
erous impulses, may well thank old Neptune for his efficient in- 
fluence. 

The large number of packet and other ships in port, and soon 
to set sail for England or France, appeared thronged with passen- 
gers. Indeed, the tide of travel setting toward Europe from the 
United States, if not so great as that rolling from Europe towards 
the United States, is still not inconsiderable ; and fully merits to 
be taken into the account, in estimating accurately the aggregate 
of immigration to this country. A very large proportion of the 
passengers that go out in these ships, are those that, having for- 
merly immigrated to this country, are now on a visit to their friends 
in Europe ; and after a transient stay there, return, bringing per- 
haps with them others of their friends and acquaintances, to ad- 
vance the Western stride of empire. It is evident, therefore, that 
if all who land upon our shores be set down as so much immi- 
gration, there will be some included who have already been reck- 
oned. The rates for passage in the first class of the packet-ships, 
were about as follows : — in the first cabin, one hundred dollars, 
including board and wine ; in the second cabin, twenty dollars, 
and found in bread, tea, and coffee ; for deck passage, twelve dol- 
lars, with bread, and access to the caboose to prepare the meals. 
Li many of the ships, the second cabin was as commodious as need 



HABITS OF THE YANKEE AND THE EUROPEAN. 23 



De, — being provided with state-rooms and comfortable berths. 
Indeed, the second cabin in these ships was formerly the first 
cabin, and used as such, until the falling off of the first-class pas- 
sengers, who now mostly go by steamers, and the increase of 
travel with the second-rate passengers, made it for the interest of 
the company to divide the cabin, and provide for a large and 
respectable part of the travelling community, who are better 
satisfied with moderate charges, — provided they can have, at the 
same time, comfortable quarters. Among the passengers in the 
second cabin, and even on the deck, you will frequently meet with 
persons of considerable wealth, and of high intelligence. But 
you will rarely see an American there. The habits of the Yankee 
and the European, are widely different in this respect. The latter is 
accustomed to accommodate himself to his pecuniary circumstan- 
ces, or to his position in life ; while the former never thmks of 
this. He rarely travels but in the first style, — ordering the best 
of everything, at least so long as he has money to foot the bills. 
Brother Jonathan may be close and hard-fisted on his own soil, in 
trade with his fellows ; but when he travels, there is not a more 
liberal soul. He parts with his money as freely, and with the 
grace of a titled millionaire, used to the thing from youth. This 
trait of our countrymen is so well understood upon the continent 
of Europe, that an American traveller is expected to pay more 
for everything he orders, than any other person ; and the charges 
on the route are not unfrequently graduated in conformity with 
this expectation. When an American ship is telegraphed to one 
of the cities of the north of Europe, it usually throws the entire 
city into a state of rejoicing, not seen on the approach of the ships 
of any other nation. Not unfrequently, salutes are fired, and the 
church bells rung, in expression of welcome. This may be owing 
ir part to the favor with which the Americans and the United 



24 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

States are regarded by these people; but it will not be doubted 
that the principal thing which moves these impulses, is the golden 
anticipation of the money that is to be cast among them by the 
generosity of the crew and officers. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THANKSGIVING TO THE NEW ENGLANBEE, AWAY — OBSERVANCE 
OF THE DAY BY THE ENGLISH AND WELSH BOARDERS — THE 
ADVANTAGES OF GOING IN A FRENCH VESSEL — ODD AND 
INSPIRING SENSATIONS ON SAILING FROM THE WHARF — THE 
PILOT, AND HIS FRENCH. 

Nov. 26th. Thanksgiving ! What pleasing reminiscences it 
awakens ? Sweetly embalmed in memory are gladsome scenes of 
the past. Linked with the present, they glide before the mind, 
drawn thither by the silver chord of association; while fancy, 
aided by the mellowing hand of time, smilingly interweaves her 
golden threads. You are at once transported to the venerable 
domicile of an aged grandfather. Once a year, at least, his heart 
bursts the bands in which the sordid aims of hfe, the rest of the 
year, so narrowly confine it ; and the austere and wrinkled coun- 
tenance, darkly shaded, by carping at the folly and extravagance 
of the age, now expands with a generous and benignant smile. 
The doors in the parental mansion have been thrown wide open 
at an early hour, and the halls now ring with the merry voices of 
youth, mingled with the deep tones of middle life, and the pleasing 
garrulity of old age. Soon comes the long-anticipated event. 
A table of ample dimensions, with the time-honored turkey, and 
other rich viands, prepared by the good old grandmother, assisted 
by some of the more skilful aunts, greets the eye with its rich 
burden. Around the festal board gather uncles, aunts, cousins, ' 

a 



26 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



the beloved grand-parents, and, peradventure, an invited p-ue*! :« 
two, — when genial mirth and conviviality heighten the pleasure 
of the annual feast. The evening ghdes off, enlivened by story 
or song ; while the younger members of the family group, one by 
one, silently withdraw to enjoy the youthful pleasures of the social 
party, or dance where soft eyes look love to eyes, which speak 
again in the unmistaken language of the heart. But if Thanksgiv- 
ing-day awakens pleasing recollections, these are not unfrequently 
accompanied with those of a sadder hue. When memory turns 
the shroud of departed joys — of endearing ties ruptured by the 
ruthless hand of death, it strikes the key-note of the dirge of our 
remembrances. Over the spirit of the New Englander, distant 
from his home, a lonely feeling creeps, on the recurrence of this 
day. 

We dined plainly to-day ; and I began to think that we should 
have nothing to recognize the observance of the hallowed event. 
In this, I was agreeably mistaken. In the afternoon, we were 

favored with a visit from , the celebrated harpist. He had 

the kindness to entertain us with some of his sweetest pieces ; and 
it is needless to say, that we were highly delighted with the per- 
formance. The harp is rarely played in the United States ; but, 
from the classical associations connected with the instrument, and 
its sweet tones, it never fails to please, when its strings are grace- 
fully and skilfully touched. In the evening, after tea, the gentle- 
men boarders of the house, with some of their acquaintances, as- 
sembled in the dining-room; and, after drinking two or three 
glasses apiece of beer, chose one of their number chairman, and 
held a convivial meeting, in honor of the day. The motion that 
each should tell a story, sing a song, or make a speech, passed by 
acclamation, — whereupon, the company set themselves to work in 
lively earnest, and they gave what the French would style a me- 



ADVANTAGES OF SAILING IN A FRENCH VESSEL. 27 



lange of noble sentiments and graceful turns of expression, min- 
gled with puerile thoughts and coarse allusions. I could not but 
admire, however, the deep and melodious tones of several who 
sang, although not so much could be said in favor of the general 
character of their performance. Many of the old English bal- 
lads, naturally sung, are very effective, and somehow stir up emo- 
tions within, quite irresistibly. It was all strongly English, — the 
full tone, broad accent, sluggish manner, and thorough frankness, 
except being softened with more generous sentiments than is usual 
with the English in their sentiment toward America, their adopted 
home. "America as^ she is, and England as she was," met a 
hearty, right English-fashioned reception. The evening closed 
with a brief speech from the president, who, in a touching and 
really eloquent manner, contrasted the unhappy condition of some 
of our fellow-men in foreign lands, with the favored lot of the 
masses in this country ; and concluded, by expressing the fervent 
wish that the suffering everywhere might be speedily relieved. 
On the whole, this was not so bad a substitute for a Thanks- 
giving ! 

Nov. 2^th. I was so fortunate as to secure an arrangement for 
a passage across the Atlantic, in the Union, a small French brig, 
Capt. Pave. As the vessel was by no means heavily built, and 
was deeply laden, a person in the least timid, might have hesitated 
to venture his personal fortune in so inferior-sized craft, across the 
vast Atlantic, at so boisterous a season ; but one at all versed in 
nautical affairs, well knows that it is not the largest ship that is 
the safest, or most comfortable, even in a severe gale at sea. Be- 
sides, the beautiful model of the Union revealed her an excellent 
sea-boat. 

The captain appeared intelligent and well-disposed, and desired 
ny company for the aid I might be to him in improvirg his knowl- 



CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



edge of the English language. The accommodations m the cabin 
were very superior, for a vessel of the size ; and being the only 
passenger, I should be the object of exclusive attention with the 
officers and crew, and be freed of the annoyance arising too often 
from the qualms and peevishness of landsmen at sea. I antici- 
pated much advantage, moreover, from the fine opportunity it of- 
fered, of gaining a more intimate and familiar acquaintance with 
the idiomatic French, — an excellent preparation for an advanta- 
geous tour through the country. So near proximity would reveal 
intelligibly to my mind more of French character, taste, and pecu- 
liar ideas, than I could otherwise gain, — as well as enable me to 
learn something of French history, not written in books ; and to 
find out where to go, to travel to the best advantage ; and what 
objects to examine as the most interesting and instructive. The 
boarders at our house congratulated me on my good fortune, and 
approved my judgment in the choice I had made. I retired to 
my state-room, on board, at a late hour, with a racking pain in my 
head, arising from undue exhaustion, — having been in the streets 
most of the day and evening, in the bustle that attends the eve of 
a journey. Tossing on my pillow during the night, I had but just 
closed my eyes, when the noise of ropes and strange voices over 
my head, aroused me ; and when I reached the deck, the captain 
had just ordered to cast off, — wlien the ship, with topsails hang- 
ing like the roundabout of a boy just decked in his holiday gear, 
was yielding to the gentle breeze, and noiselessly gliding toward 
the stream. The city, like a huge animal just aroused from its 
nightly slumbers, was beginning to beat with pulse and energy. 
The rays of the rising sun were gilding the summits of its lofty 
spires ; and as I stood upon the quarter-deck, and gazed upon the 
receding city, the separating link in the golden chain of home and 
its endearing associations, and yielded to the gentle inspiration 



THE PILOT, AND HIS FEENCH. 29 

imparted by the motion of the vessel, I felt seized with emotions 
that must enkindle more or less the bosom of every traveller, as 
he leaves his native shore for a distant journey. 

I was diverted from this momentary reverie by the novel-sound- 
ing and energetic commands of the pilot, which were instantly 
passed by the officers from him to the crew, and obeyed by them 
with the utmost alacrity. Being nautical phrases, they struck my 
ear as oddly as if modulated in a language quite new to me. A 
hght wind wafted us along during the day, but so sluggish was 
our movement, that on the change of tide setting in, we came to 
anchor in the mouth of New York bay. The sky became deeply 
overcast, and there was strong indication of a gale ; but this did 
not disturb the equanimity of the captain or pilot, who were yield- 
ing to the agreeableness of the enchanting domino, and fragrant 
Havana, in the comfortably warmed and lighted cabin, while mas- 
ter Joseph, one of the ship's apprentices, most delightfully regaled 
us with the silvery tones which he drew from his violin, with the 
skill and grace of a Paganini. But in the latter part of the night, 
the wind increasing, the hands were mustered to find a shelter for 
the vessel near Staten Island. Here we remained snugly shel- 
tered from the wind, which blew furiously from the north-east, 
the following day and evening. 

This part of the island was dotted, here and there, with tasteful 
eountry residences ; and the pilot, who was extremel}'' obliging and 
communicative, related to me incidents in the life of the gentle- 
man who possessed the cottage that adorned so smilingly the 
bluff of land near us, which aptly illustrated the capricious nature 
of fortune, especially in rapid-growing New York. 

A wealthy gentleman in the city, at his death, left his property 
to be equally divided among his children, excepting the youngest 
son, who, being a little too racy in his habits, had allotted, for his 

a* 



30 CRESTS FKOM THE OOEAN-WOELD. 



share, some acres on the uninhabited islands in the vicinity of the 
city, at that time nearly valueless. In process of time, — thanks 
to the improved taste of our merchant-princes for country palaces 
as summer resorts, — his lands became so enhanced in nominal 
value, that he was now able to give a dinner to his poorer brothers. 
The pilot spoke French with remarkable fluency, and so as to 
be readily understood, not only in conversation, but by the crew 
in his orders ; but then, he made a perfect homicide of the French 
grammar, mixing up the particles and accidents of the verbs in 
pretty Babel-like confusion, — and then his pronunciation, and the 
cadences of his sentences ! As they struck the ear, you were 
rather reminded of the meeting of the cross-currents of a shallow, 
than the wavy undulations of the true French melody. This 
was not surprising, however ; the greater wonder being, that in so 
short a time as he had attended to the study and practice of the 
language, and the meagre opportunity he had had for its acquisi- 
tion, that he should have been able to speak half as well. It went 
to prove, that quickened by the force which interest imparts to 
our energies, we may often make astonishing acquisitions. It may 
suggest, too, a valuable principle in the education of youth. A 
scholar, with no stimulus to excite his powers, will often lifelessly 
drift in the dead-sea of study for months, and even years, to the 
no small vexation of his teacher, and real mortification of hig 
parents ; but by some means awaken or reanimate his sleeping 
faculties, and he darts off, like a thing of life before the freshening 
gale, to the astonishment and delight of the beholder. The pilot 
informed me that there were no less than one hundred and eighty 
pilots in the city, and that they were organized in independent 
companies, each being left free to compete with the rest in se- 
curing the greatest amount of pilotage. If a vessel is spoken in 
the offing, or entering the harbor, the captain is obligee" to pay, at 



PILOTS IN NEW YORK. gj 



least, half-pilotage. The old pilots complained, and with some ps- 
tice, of the act of Congress, which some three years ago removed all 
restrictions to free competition. They were about petitioning the 
law-makers for a reenactment of the same, securing the privileges 
of the craft to such as by due knowledge and experience have 
claims to them. This largest liberty, though certainly unjust, and 
quite annoying to the duly qualified, is not wholly unproductive 
of good results. To it may be, in great measure, attributed the 
vast superiority of our Yankee pilot-boats, in point of beauty of 
model, and quality of speed, over those of any other nation. 



CHAPTEE V. 

EMOTIONS ON LOSING SIGHT OF LAND — MODEL OF THE VESSEL 
A NATIONAL BEAU-IDEAL — COMPARATIVE STRENGTH OF THE 
VESSELS OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND — FARE, AND STYLE OF 
LIVING ON BOARD — SOCIALITY AT MEALS — A PORTRAIT OF 
OUR THREE APPRENTICES. 

Dec. Aili. On coming on deck in the morning, I met with a 
clear horizon, and a piercing wintry-air. With anchors weighed, 
and bellying canvas set to a brisk gale from the north, the brig 
was gallantly ploughing her way out of the harbor, in company with 
numbers of other craft with prows set in different directions. The 
scene was enlivening. At eight o'clock, with a moistened eye, we 
shook hands with the pilot, and bid him good-by, intrusting to his 
care our last missives of love and friendly affection to dear friends 
that we were fast leaving behind. At nine o'clock, the captain and 
mate regulated the ship's chronometer, and noted the bearings and 
estimated distance of Sandy Hook, — when the ship's bow was 
fairly turned toward beautiful France. At eleven o'clock, p. m., 
the hills of Neversink were just merging below the horizon. We 
were now indeed launched upon the glorious Atlantic, with a 
broad expanse of three thousand miles before us. As my eye 
lost the lingering vestige of my native country, and " reflections 
thick" rushed upon me, I could scarcely repress a sigh. As I turned 
away, the captain, in a sympathetic tone, observed : Vous etes 
triste, Monsieur, vous regrettez voire pays. To turn the subject 



FIRST FEW DAYS FROM PORT. §3 

without a reply, I cast a glance at our short canvas, — top-gallant- 
sails being furled, — and then pointed, inquiringly, at a large ship 
near, that was ploughing by us under top-gallant studding-sails — 
a perfect cloud of canvas. He caught my meaning with the 
quickness of a Frenchman's apprehension, and giving a true 
French shrug, exclaimed, Ah, Monsieur, on presse ; then, turn- 
ing on his heel, he gave me a hint in respect to such matters, that 
served as a guide for the rest of the voyage. 

"We continued rather slowly our watery path, amidst variable 
and not particularly propitious winds, steering first broadly off to 
the south-east, under that sentiment of dread which all foreigners 
have of our American coast, and then gradually hauling up nearer 
our course, so as to pass near the south point of the great Bank 
of Newfoundland. We soon lost the sharp, nipping air of the 
land, which, under the double influence of the agreeable pow^er of 
the ocean upon the superincumbent atmosphere, and the radiating 
force of the Gulf-stream, that ocean-caldron upon our coast, soft- 
ened down to so genial a temperature as to remind us continually 
of the balmy month of June, rather than frosty old December, 
wrapped in furs and icicles pendant from his hoary beard. We 
were quite comfortable without fire in the cabin. 

The first few days from port are not the most sociable in an 
ocean passage. The crew are necessarily busily employed in 
stripping the ship of her land-hamper, and snugly reducing her 
to a sea-dress. This, with noting the ship's departure, keeping 
her reckoning, and writing up the log-book, neglected by the ex- 
tra labors in port, require the constant attention of the ofiicers, 
while the captain is absorbed in his accounts, or distracted by the 
ever-rising images of his wife and children, or the voluptuous 
form of his mistress, making a captive of his mind, and bearing 
it to the endeared family-circle, or to the hall sounding with mirth 



34 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



and revelry. Even the steward is a little out of humor, bustling 
in the cabin in setting to rights things disarranged in the hurrj 
of leaving, and broadly hinting to jou some of the rules by which 
he expects you will be governed, if you desire to be on good 
terms with him. While the passengers, strangers on board and 
strangers to each other, and swelling with past memories and 
future hopes, will feel no disposition to be communicative. 

One who has been a sailor will be interested in nothing re- 
lating to maritime scenery more than in observing and compar- 
ing the model and build of the vessels of different nations, as 
well as those of the same. He will easily trace a striking re- 
semblance between the physical conformation of a nation, and the 
architecture of its ships. The ideas of beauty which seem derived 
from the human form, and which constitute the basis of style, are 
so faithfully transferred to ship-building, that one could easily tell 
the physical conformation of the people of a nation, even before 
seeing them, if favored with an inspection of its ships. Who 
would not, for instance, come at a pretty good idea of the style of 
beauty among the Chinese, after seeing one of their elaborately- 
constructed junks? The thick and rounded form of a Dutch 
craft is an unvarying model of the captain's bulky frow at 
home. The Englishman is heavily built, and slow in his move- 
ments; the Frenchman, lighter in mould and more graceful in 
action. About the same difference may be seen in the form and 
construction of the vessels of the two nations. The Americans, 
who are a medium between the English and the French, not so 
heavy as the former, nor so light as the latter, have maintained 
the same characteristic in their ship-building. They have com- 
bined the peculiar excellences of the two nations most happily, 
while under the force of an original genius, and an energy im- 
parted by free institutions, they have improved upon all models, 



ASIEEICAN AND FOEEIGN SAILOES. 35 

and may now be considered foremost in the march of ship-archi- 
tecture. 

Our ship, ahhough of fine model and graceful finish, was yet of 
slight build. The timbers were smaller than they would have 
been in an English or even American vessel of the same size. 
The captain assured me that she was as strong, having the infe- 
riority in this particular more than made up by superiority of 
material, and better fastenings. This might be true, yet the 
imagination has something to do with the comfortable feehng of 
security on ship-board, and the reflection of the passenger that a 
single plank separates him from the watery caverns below, is 
greatly consoled when the eye everywhere meets great sohdity 
and apparent strength. And, unfortunately for the arguments of 
the captain in the case of our vessel, the frequent dismal sound 
of the pumps, when she rolled heavily, increasing as the sea in- 
creased, with the unharmonious cracking and creaking of the 
partitions and wainscoting in the cabin, spoke a language not 
quite so unmistakable, saying to the feelings, at least, that greater 
solidity would have better resisted the enormous straining to 
which she was exposed, heavily laden as she was, and surged to 
and fro by the powerful waves of the heavy ground-swell. 

I was forcibly struck with the indiflTerent manner of working 
ship, by our sailors. There was not the promptness and celerity 
of movement, seen on board of an American ship ; yet the crew 
yielded all due respect to the captain's commands. It may with 
some reason seem strange, that a people naturally so ingenious in 
design, and dexterous in execution, as are the French, should not 
excel in a profession calling for quickness of apprehension and fa- 
cility of adaptation ; yet, I think that the inferiority of the French, 
as sailors, even to the English, Dutch, and Swedes, is generally 
admitted. They seem to lack the boldness, the physical hardiness. 



36 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



and even nautical skill of those people. It is true that we now 
have few ships manned fully by American seamen. In our ma- 
rine, all who are not soon promoted to officers, are so intemperate 
and quarrelsome, as to render them undesirable for crews ; and it 
is now becoming a pretty general practice, to supply our ships 
with sailors from the northern nations of Europe, — particularly 
from Denmark and Sweden. These sailors, naturally rather slow 
and methodical, when transferred to our ships, have their energies 
so quickened by the spirit of American enterprise, as to answer 
even a superior purpose. For, manned with them, our ships in- 
variably make shorter passages with smaller crews, than the 
French ships of equal tonnage. The fare of the sailor is an 
item of some note in the bill of the aqueous part of his amphibi- 
ous life. Cut off from the variety of shore-life, and doomed to a 
dull routine of duty, eating and drinking constitute about all of his 
physical comforts and mental recreations. In this respect, as well 
as many others, the condition of the sailor has become much im- 
proved of late years, not only in our own marine, but in that of 
all other nations. Yet we are still greatly in advance. We give 
sailors better quarters, better grub, and better pay, than others ; 
and, it may be added, we require them to work a little more vigo- 
rously. I observed that the living, with the crew, was much after 
the American fashion, — three meals a day, and coffee and tea, — 
except that the bread was of an inferior quality ; and that dinner 
was invariably preceded by soup, — the Frenchman's staff of life. 
In the cabin, on the contrary, the style was an obsequious imitation 
of the French, — two meals a day, — breakfast at ten o'clock, a. 
M., occupying at least one hour ; and dinner at five o'clock, p. m., 
at which we sat not less than one hour and a half, whether the 
weaiher was stormy or fine, whether it blew high or low, whether 
you could sit upright, and swallow your food with some degree of 



FEENCH-PEEtARED DIET. 37 

decency, or whether the reeling and kirching of the ship obho-ed 
you to hold on with one hand, to retain your position, and to make 
the other serve the three-fold purpose of steadying your knife and 
plate, and, i-n the interval of a lull, steering the scanty and indif- 
ferently-prepared food in the channel to the welcome vortex of so 
many edible things. Claret wine was freely served as beverage, 
- — taking the place of tea and coffee. This I was never particu- 
larly partial to, even in my more wine-drinking days ; but, by fre- 
quent tasting, and the contagious example of the captain and 
others, I found such influences to have their usual effect ; and, in 
a little time, I began to quaff with something of the smack of a 
relish of the thing. We had coffee served at breakfast, after the 
X)urses, but very sparingly. I thought it of sufficiently high 
quality, in all conscience, being so highly concentrated as nearly 
to overpower my sapient nerves ; but the captain, of different 
gustatory education, would frequently scold the steward for the in- 
sipidity of the dish, — when, to supply the deficit, he would add 
a little strong brandy, or perhaps a slice of butter, or even both at 
the same time. Tea we never indulged in, except some one who 
was ill, or had been trying to quicken the sluggish physical man 
by a dose of medicine. Even then, it was prepared so economi- 
cally, and sipped so mincmgly, that you would have supposed it 
the rarest and most expensive of exotics. 

I must confess that at first it required a little effort to come to 
like some of the French-prepared articles of diet, such, for in- 
stance, as our classic dish of codfish and potatoes, prepared iii olive 
ml, and other like departures from American modes of regimen ; 
but taste in matters of food, as well as in the fine arts, is so much 
a matter of education and habit, that the opinions and ways of 
those of the society in which we are accidentally cast, soon greatly 
modify our own j and in a short time, I found little difficulty in 

4 



38 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



conforming, in a degree tliat astonished myself, to almost whatever 
was served. Our time at meals was always spent, French-like, 
very agreeably. The captain was always then in the best of spir- 
its, particularly communicative, striving to draw out conversation 
from others, and interest all. Our meals thus served to enliven 
the mind, as well as refresh the body. They were really green 
spots in our otherwise rather dreary passage, and served to make 
us better satisfied with ourselves, and more pleased with each 
other. This feature of French life deserves more than a brief 
mention. It merits being imitated by Americans on ship-board, 
who rapidly devour their meals in moody silence, then quickly 
rush on deck, as if eating was a sad and desperate duty, the 
quicker done, the sooner over. 

The only exception to this, was the captain's stereotyped fault- 
finding with the steward. This was carried to a point absolutely 
intolerable to every one, I Avill venture to say, but himself. The 
dishes at meals followed each other in course ; and as each was 
brought into the cabin by the steward, it was subjected to a care- 
ful inspection by the captain, who was sure to find something 
wrong, — whereupon would follow a volley of French derogatory 
expressions ; while the culprit, a fine fellow, by the way, quite ac- 
customed to the ordeal, would submit with the utmost calmness, 
replying respectfully, but occasionally dropping an expression sc 
adroitly, and with so much sang froid, to the captain's absurdities. 
as to make it difiicult for us oftentimes to suppress our risibilities. 

We had on board three boys, the ship's apprentices. Foreign 
vessels usually carry more or less of these cabin appendages, ac- 
cording to the tonnage of the ships. They are bound to the cap 
tain or ship for a series of years, to be inducted into the mystery 
of seamanship and navigation. They live in the cabin, and are 
exempted from some of the drudging of the common sailor, but 



SHIP'S APPRENTICES. 39 



are more directly under the control of the captain. One can 
harrTly expect to rke to the station of officer, who has not served 
a regular apprenticeship. Many, however, before their period of 
service expu-es, run away to America, where a more propitious 
field awaits them. 

The character and tastes of our apprentices were extremely 
diverse ; and their cases illustrate most strikingly the folly of not 
duly considering the natural aptitudes of boys, before making 
choice of then- pursuits in life. The youngest, whom I will call 
Francois, was a puny stripling ; and from constitutional temper- 
ament, and gentleness of disposition, as unfitted for the rough ca- 
reer of a sailor, as it would seem possible for one to be. He was, 
moreover, at times, di'eadfuUy sea-sick, though he had been on 
board six months. He would then lie around under foot, utterly 
indifferent whether his head was up or down, or what fate befel 
him. In these fits of physical and mental prostration, if you had 
deliberately thrown him into the sea, I verily believe he would 
have manifested no opposition to the act. Yet, when the sea be- 
came smooth, and nature recovered a little, he would manifest a 
degree of intelligence and spirit, which showed that he was by no 
means destitute of the elements of success, if the right calhng had 
been chosen for him. As it was, he was incessantly moaning com- 
plaints at the wretchedness of his lot, and even calling down im- 
precations on the heads of those whose mistaken zeal for his wel- 
fare, had placed him in his present situation. Joseph, one of the 
other lads, was quite as averse to a sea-life, as was Francois, al- 
though his dislike arose from different causes. The son of a 
priest, educated, and accustomed to the refinements of society, 
there was no congeniality between his cultivated tastes, and the 
coarse, unintellectual life on ship-board. His mind having been 
5tJ*engthened by discipHne, he evinced more fortitude than the 



40 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



other, and was wont to put the best side of things outward. How 
ever clouded his spirits by tempestuous weather, on the first abate 
inent of the storm, a gleam of sunshine would arise from his elas 
tic spirit, even before it appeared in the heavens over our heads 
We called him our moving barometer; but he was even more 
than this, — for the captain referred to him all disputed points in 
literature, with the expectation of a satisfactory explanation ; and 
he more than once, on our passage, cheered our drooping spirits 
with the exquisite tones which he knew so well how to draw from 
his favorite violin, and as often amused us with graphic sketches 
with the pencil, — some of them so supremely droll, as to defy the 
gravity of the most imperturbable of our company. His hatred, 
nevertheless, to a sailor's life, was so unconquerable, that, with un- 
usual moral integrity, he would, I have no doubt, have run away, 
had an opportunity offered ; and it did seem too great a sacrifice thus 
to misemploy his fine intellectual powers and rare accomplishments. 
The third boy, Pierre, or Peter, was just the antipode of the 
others. He was a true son of Neptune ; and was never more 
happy than when engaged arduously in ship-duties. His consti- 
tution appeared of iron, resisting alike the effects of heat or coidj 
and, wet or dry, cold or warm, he was ever the first at his post, — 
while no murmurings escaped him, however severe the task, or 
great the privation. Notwithstanding his boldness and undaunted 
spirit, a smile of goodly nature was ever playing around his coun- 
tenance ; and your every request was promptly and willingly 
complied with. In the absence of the ship's steward, the captain 
had assigned the place to Pierre, who, in addition to this, stood his 
night-watch, and steered his trick, and was always up in taking in 
sail or reefing. He appeared to have no idea of selfishness, and 
was only satisfied in doing all in his power. Success to his ca^ 
reer ! He deserves to be one day a commodore. 



CHAPTER YI. 

HEAVY -WEATHER — THE SAILOR A STRANGER TO FEAR — THE 
SUBLIMITY OF A DREADFUL GALE — THE ACCURATE RECKON- 
ING OF THE CAPTAIN — ONE NOT THE BEST TEACHER OF HIS 
OWN LANGUAGE — THE INTENSE DESIRE OF GETTING IN AT 

THE CRUEL SPORT OF FORTUNE '"tIS SWEET TO BE DROWNED 

IN one's own waters" THE THRILL OF A NARROW ESCAPE 

— ECSTASY OF THE CREW ON DESCRYING LAND. 

The winds were variable, and the weather so mild in the first 
of our passage, that I began to conclude that crossing the North- 
ern Atlantic in the wmter was not, after all, the dubious affair 
diat I had made up my mind to its being, on leaving New York, 
— but, after passing a Httle to the eastward of the Grand Bank, 
and reaching a more northern latitude than we had been saihng 
in, the wind set in to blow from the west, veering from that point 
to the north-west, when we had a succession of gales, so furious 
and constant, as indeed to speed us quickly across the ocean, but 
which, at the same time, were near ingulfing us in the fearful 
surges of the deep. During this time, our brig could bear but little 
canvas, or none; and she labored so severely from the cross-swell, 
occasioned by the veering of the wind some three or four points, 
as to require very frequent and protracted duty at the pumps. 
Such weather as we experienced is a trying ordeal for a vessel 
to pass through, when deeply laden with certain kinds of cargo, — 
such, for instance, as loose grain ; and many a craft, in passing it^ 

4* 



42 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



has, doubtless, met a sad fate. As for our barque, she behaved 
most of the time manfullj, aUhough she appeared like a tiny 
bauble, a sport to the fury-lashed waves around. I must confess 
that, at times, I was somewhat apprehensive, lest an over- 
strained part might give way, and we all be hastened to the awful 
depths below us ; and imagination, with no direct object of con- 
templation, easily conjured up phantoms of dread and doubt 
Even the captain, — who, to sport with our fears, one day, at the 
table, jocosely remarked, that our hopes were certainly freighted 
in a fragile barque, that but a single plank separated us from eter- 
nity, and that if but an inch's length of oakum should loosen from 
a seam, then adieu to the bright scenes of this world, — wore an 
anxious and thoughtful expression. More even, I thought to 
detect at times, a lurking of fear in his varying expression. But 
the sailors evmced not the slightest concern. They attended to 
their duties with the utmost composure, and when their work was 
done, hastened below, threw themselves into their berths, and 
slept as soundly as if in a snug chamber at home. 

The sailor, when on ship-board, is a stranger to fear. The 
most tempestuous weather, such as would overwhelm the mind ol 
a passenger, filling it with the keenest apprehension, he regards 
as only a natural occurrence, which he does not, if possible, allow 
even to interrupt his hours of rest. To illustrate how familiarity 
with scenes of danger gradually removes from the mind the fears 
with which they are naturally accompanied, I might attempt a 
faint description of an awful night which we experienced, and such 
as occur at rare intervals, even in the stormiest sea-going life, 
furnishing to the traveller who may witness such, vivid re 
miniscences in his entire after-life. 

The wind, w^hich had been steadily increasmg for several daySj 
had now (December 16th) reached a degree of force, which it 



THE SUBLIMITY OF A TEERIFIC GALE. 43 



seemed impossible to pass. It actually bellowed and screamed 
around our hull and through the cordage, as if old Boreas himself 
was present, goaded to madness by some unseen fury. It would 
frequently come in irresistible gusts, hurling off the ridge of a 
wave, and bearing it with electric speed, in the form of spray, far 
off to leeward. The smallest piece of the foresail possible to be 
set, just to steady the direction of the vessel, was more sail even 
than she could well bear ; and, under the herculean force of the 
gale, she reeled, staggered, yet pressed on, with a celerity abso- 
lutely thrilling. Under the pressure, the masts seemed straining 
from their base ; and, as she darted off with alarming speed on 
the ridge of a mountain-wave, the hull would quiver like an 
aspen-leaf. 

The sublimity of the scene presented to our view was in faithful 
harmony with the terrific grandeur of the occasion. The entire 
canopy of the sky was deeply overcast. Several degrees from 
the horizon, quite around us, it was dark and impervious, — but as 
the eye ascended the vaulted arch of the heavens, the clouds be- 
came more transparent, until, at the zenith, the full-orbed moon 
shed down her placid rays, which, after struggling through the 
broken, and light fleecy clouds over our heads, were reflected 
broad around, illumining ocean and sky. The broadly crested 
waves, in all directions, as far as the eye could reach, was a feature 
entirely new to me, and they contrasted fearfully with the inky- 
blackness of the horizon. 

Ropes had been drawn diagonally across the quarter-deck, to 
cling to in a heavy lurch of the brig, or when an unlucky sea 
should break over. The captain and officers, in storm-sea rig, 
tarpaulin north-westers tied around the body, and spray dripping 
from moustache and beard, resembling half-drowned rats, were 
posted on what resembled the weather-side of tJie quarter-deck. 



44 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



wMle I alone had the other. Here we remained during the 
night, scarcely a word being spoken, except the few necessary to 
complete the commands. The brig behaved manfully, scudding 
being her forte ; but two or three seas tumbled over on our quar- 
ter during the night, threatening to ingulf us. So strained was 
every part of the vessel, that the water rushed down through the 
seams of the deck, at other times perfectly tight, to the discom- 
fiture of the boys in the cabin, who sent up their shrieks, feeling, 
doubtless, that it was the signal of their departure from this world. 
Occasionally a sea of gigantic proportions would heave up almost 
directly over our heads, then in a playful, fantastic manner would 
topple and threaten to bow its briny crest full upon us ; but the good 
brig would some how or other manage to get the audacious mon- 
ster beneath her, when, pressed in each other's embra,ce, they 
would move on together for a moment with intense celerity. The 
night was one long to be remembered, and the scene fearful and 
thrilling in the extreme ; but fear was not the predominant feeling 
in my own breast. The sublimity of the occasion elevated the 
soul above the grovelling emotions of ordinary life, and entranced 
it in the regions of ^Nature's splendid domain. 

But how did the sailors on board view the matter? They ap- 
peared to regard it with Httle more than ordinary concern. The 
watch on deck were kept most of the time at the pumps ; but as 
soon as relieved, they tumbled into their berths in the forecastle, 
and slept soundly until called again. The only complaint they 
made the next day, when the wind had abated, was, that the deck 
over their heads leaked so badly during the night, as almost to 
drown them in their cots. 

As we neared the English coast, it was with no reluctance that 
we parted with the incessant westerly gales, that we had fully ex- 
perienced in then' terrific violence, and came into the vai'iable 



EDUCATION AND TASTE OF THE CAPTAIN. 45 



winds arid shifting weather of the coast. The dreary views that 
we had been so long accustomed to, were now relieved, and our 
hearts gladdened by the constant appearance of vessels bound to 
sea. Some of them I recognized as our noble American ships, 
which, with a white cloud of canvas, were majestically speeding 
their way to the " land of the brave and the home of the free." 
Within a few miles of the coast, we spoke an English ship which 
had left sight of land a few hours before ; and, by exchange of 
reckoning, we found the longitude of the two captains to diifer but 
a few miles. On expressing my surprise at this accuracy, the 
captain assured me that he rarely came wider of the mark ; and I 
had good reason to credit his statement. Added to good general 
scholarship, he possessed a thorough knowledge of navigation, and 
the collateral sciences ser\aceable to a complete elucidation of all 
the principles of the noble science. His ample state-room, on 
board, was liberally provided with nautical instruments, and he 
evinced a pride even in keeping the most complete and accurate 
account possible, of the ship's reckoning, by the several methods 
revealed by modem science. 

The captain showed his superior education and taste in nothing 
more pleasingly than in his choice private library ; and he exhib- 
ited a knowledge of literature, that would have done honor to a 
professor of bellelettres. He translated English with ease, but was 
not able, however, to speak a word of it ; and his attempts to pro- 
nounce were surprisingly awkward, and, at times, supremely ludi- 
crous. He often expressed a high idea of the value of the Eng- 
lish language. With a complete knowledge of it and the French, 
lie could travel, he used to say, and be understood the world ovei 

The plan of mutual instruction, by set lessons, vras not carried 
out by us with the same enthusiasm with which it was commenced. 
Frequent interruptions, occasioned by the duties of his post, and 



46 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



the want of habits of regular application, soon shook the captain's 
confident resolutions ; while myself enjoying just the advantages 
I most coveted, of continually hearing the spoken language, in its 
varied phases of tone and accent, and freedom to converse at 
pleasure, I readily yielded to the example of the captain, of ap- 
pearing at lesson-hour at first rarely, and, finally, not at all. It 
was, doubtless, not the first ardently-formed plan, soon neglected. 
Besides, we found ourselves not so competent teachers of our res- 
pective tongues, as we imagined ourselves to be ; and I became 
thoroughly convinced of what I had long believed, that a person 
is not so successful a teacher of his native dialect, as of a foreign 
language that he has mastered. The reason is obvious. Having 
acquired his own language principally by imitation, he understands 
it little more than practically ; and he is surprised at his own ig- 
norance, when asked to explain some of its simplest elementary 
principles. In learning a foreign language, on the contrary, he 
necessarily begins at the basis, and learns by general rules, in a 
short time, much that would otherwise be tedious to acquire, and 
at great expense of time. Besides, having gone over the precise 
route himself, he knows by experience the difficulty of the way, 
— which cannot be apparent to the native, who has reached his 
haven by quite a different passage. He thus becomes a better 
pilot in the literary sea. As an illustration in point, of the woful 
ignorance often existing even among the learned, respecting the 
simplest elements of our language, the amusing spectacle was ex- 
hibited, a few years since, at the " Literary Hill," over which 
gleams one of our " Twin Stars of the East " of venerable pro- 
fessors, hoary with classical and oriental learning as well as age, 
actually submitting to the pupilage of a famous Professor Bron- 
son, devoting several hours a day of their hallowed time, to tug- 
ging away with most commendable docility and perseverance, and 



IIEAD-AVINDS ANi) CALMS. 47 

for what, — why, wonderful to say, to learn the powers of the let- 
ters of the English alphabet. The ear of the facetious student, 
at this time, while passing through the halls of the buildings, to 
his recitation-room, was wont to be greeted with certain explosive 
groans, produced by the " dorsal and abdominal muscles," remind- 
ing him of the awful travail of the spirit, oppressed by the moun- 
tain-weight of ancient lore ; and striving with desperate energy 
to discover the neglected paths which lead to the oozing rills 
whence issue the tiny streams that form the ocean of all science 
and literature. And if he chanced to stroll through the groves 
about the " Hill," at almost any moment of the day, his ear was 
sure to be struck with strange, inhuman sounds, as if the very 
rocks and vales were vocal, and there were airy tongues on every 
side. It is unquestionable, I think, that with the exception of 
pronunciation, a person will not succeed so well in teaching his 
native tongue, as a foreign language which he has mastered. 

Our delightful anticipations of soon reaching land, were now 
most cruelly sported with, by a period of light head-winds and 
calms, — so that, at the expiration of several days, the captain in- 
formed me that we had not advanced during the time, the distance 
of two miles towards the end of our route. Such bitter experi- 
ences are by no means unfrequent. Indeed, it often occurs, in 
crossing the Atlantic, as elsewhere in passages, that a ship, after 
having been most agreeably wafted to within a day's sail or so, of 
port, and when the most intense gladness pervades every heart 
on board, with the joyful expectation of soon embracing long-sepa- 
rated loved ones, and of sweetly enjoying the blissful emotions 
that arise in the breast from all the endearments of home, native 
country, and friends, that these keen anticipations are suddenly 
doomed to a most tantalizing and provoking reverse, by a succes- 
sion of head-winds, calms, or even adverse gales, — sometimes 



48 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



blowing the vessel back half the distance of her course, causing 
long and dreary days, and even months, to elapse, before actually 
reaching the eager goal of affection's wishes. There are probably 
few things in life more trying to the spirit's fond desires, than such 
disappointments ! 

While we were thus languidly reclining on the smooth and vo- 
luptuous surface of the circular expanse, of which we were the 
centre, yielding a slight motion to the gentle heaving of its majes- 
tic breast, the air became oppressed, and the entire sky gathered 
up in lowering presages, admonishing us of the certain proximity 
of a storm. From the dangerous nature of the European coast 
in this latitude, and its exposure, especially at this season, to sud- 
den and irresistibly violent gales, these dark omens conveyed no 
very comfortable feeling to my own mind, — although the rest on 
board seemed too much carried away with joyous anticipations of 
home, to share my apprehension. 

As I had fully expected, the wind, on the 29th, set in from the 
south, steadily increased in force, accompanied with rain. We 
continued ploughing steadily our way, under the pressure of a 
twelve-knot breeze, it being so thick that we were able to see but 
a short distance. To some casual remark of mine, in res|)ect to 
the propriety of running for land, under so unfavorable circum- 
stances of seeing it sufficiently far ahead for safety, the captain 
playfully remarked that, running as we were, was indeed dangerous, 
but then it was " sweet to be drowned in one's own waters." Des- 
pairing, however, of making point d'Ouessant, the headland run 
for usually by French vessels coming from the West ; and, deter- 
mining our precise situation, by means of exchanging signals w^itli 
an English ship beating out, at 11a. m. we squared away, and ran 
directly up the channel. By 8 p. m., the gale was at its height ; 
and it being dark, and dangerous running, the captain very pru- 



A THRILLING INCIDENT. 49 



dentlj deemed it best to heave the ship to, or, as the French ex- 
press it, to put the ship en cape. But, if it is dangerous running 
under such circumstances, the channel being commonly thronged 
with vessels going in every direction, it is no less so, lying to, — 
the vessel quite unmanageable, and liable to be run into by others. 
Of this we were made sensible, by a most thrilling incident. The 
brig had no sooner been placed in her situation to the wind, and 
everything properly secured, when the watch on deck cast up a 
most piercing shout, that a sail was bearing down close upon us. 
We all sprang upon deck, bellowed to the top of our voices ; and 
while the mate, with French celerity, placed the ship's lantern in 
the rigging, others set up a drumming on barrel-heads, and tin 
vessels, with whatever they could seize hold of. All this, which 
transpired in a moment, caused no change in the course of the 
approaching vessel. She was coming directly for our midships, 
and was nearing us with awful quickness ; but while revolving in 
my own mind, what I should do for safety in the moment of the 
expected terrible concussion of the two ships, there was all at 
once heard a confusion of voices on board of the other, a creaking 
of yards, in the act of changing the position of the sails, — when 
her towering prow, dimly defined by the white foam of her fore- 
foot, gleaming through the blackness, gradually turned toward our 
stern, and, in a moment, she thundered past us, within a stone's 
toss of our taffrail, a ship of gigantic size. It was a hair- 
breadth escape, and thrilled my nerves to their very extremities. 
How often is the sailor called to witness such scenes, when he is 
suddenly hurled upon the very brink of existence, with the fear- 
ful chasm of sudden death yawning full before him I 

At one o'clock, the next morning, the wind changed to the north- 
west, and when we came on deck, at sunrise, we were greeted 
with a bright sky, and the frosty air from the land. Our men 

5 



50 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAX-WOELD. 



experienced a night of hardship, but they conducted bravely. 
Several vessels during the day passed us, bound out the channel. 
At eight o'clock in the evening we were called up to see Guernsey 
light. As the bright blaze, gleaming over the water, broke upon 
our vision, it sent a thrill of delight through every heart. For 
several hours, the most tumultuous joy reigned on board. The 
boys jumped and capered in wild ecstasy. This was quite natural. 
It was their first voyage, — six months far away from home. We 
had just completed a tempestuous passage. The long-anticipated 
day had arrived. They were soon to tread again the sunny soil 
of their beloved country, and embrace affectionate friends. It is 
true that the word home is not found in the French language, and 
that many of the delicious associations which its name calls up in 
the breast of an American or an Englishman, are unknown to the 
French ; but no people are more enthusiastically attached to their 
country than the latter, — more proud of its glory, more passion- 
ately wedded to its bright scenes and delectable hfe. Their ardent 
and impetuous temperament gives hveliness to their expression. 
It was not surprising, therefore, that our boys appeared a little 
intemperate in manifesting their emotions. 



chapte:r VII. 

LANI> UPON THE OLD WORLD — A MOODY FIT OF THE CAPTAIN — 
SANDWICH ISLANDERS ELEVATING EFFECTS OF OCEAN- 
SCENERY UPON THE SOUL — SABBATHS AT SEA — SPORTS OF 
THE CAPTAIN PIG-BUTCHERY — ARRIVAL OFF HAVRE — EN- 
TERING THE PORT — THE FRENCH WOMAN'S CHARGE FOR 

BEEF-STEAK FRENCH MODE OF LIVING FURNISHED ROOMS 

— THEIR AGREEABLENESS THE LAND-LADY'S DAUGHTER — 

MISTAKE IN GETTING INTO MONS. P.'S SCHOOL — THE PROS- 
PECT FROM THE HEIGHTS OF ANGOUVILLE — THE ENGLISH- 
MAN AND HIS DAUGHTER — MODE OF TEACHING CHILDREN — 
IMPROVEMENT SUGGESTED FOR AMERICAN MOTHERS. 

Early the next forenoon we saw in tlie mellowing distance, 
Isle d' Aurigny. Land upon the old world ! How strong the emo- 
tions it awakens ! At 3, p. m., Cape de la Hogue was visible, 
and at 7, p. m., the light of Harfleur became distinct to view. "We 
v/ere now gently ripj^ling through the water with a leading breeze, 
— our course direct for Havre, which we expected to see in the 
morning. As I paced the deck, I musingly reviewed the brief 
stage of life just passed. My passage had been, on the whole, as 
pleasant and profitable as could reasonably have been expected. 

I had been treated with kindness, even indulgence, by all on 
board. This might have been owing in part to the disposition I 
cultivated of giving the least possible trouble to others. By con- 
versing freely with those on board, I had learned much of value 
to me, of their intimate sentiments and mode of thought and feel- 



52 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



ing. I gained a glimpse of how mucli can be accomplislied by 
tbe mind, when nerved by strong determination and resolute 
energy. In the short space of four weeks, I had nearly com- 
pleted writing and pronouncing aloud, as a review, the exercises 
in Ollendorff's French Method, besides reading through a number 
of French and English books, and gleaning an armful of old num- 
bers of Knickerbocker and English reviews. This, with writing 
my journal, and several hours a day spent in earnest conversation, 
I thought quite successful for my poor brain. 

The captain was in general reasonably forbearing in disposition; 
but one evening, at table, he was moody and lowering. He mut- 
tered some deep-toned ejaculations^ and then mentioned a dernier 
resort, a horrid necessity of using arms ; and questioned the boys 
about their pistols. I then more fully comprehended the meaning 
of the two bright muskets, standing at the head of the table, and 
remembered with no feeling of pleasure, that quite a serious mu- 
tiny had broken out on board, in their outward passage, and that 
the captain had encountered difSculty with the commander of a 
French ship in Boston, and was expecting to be obhged to settle 
the dispute by the falsely-honorable mode of a duel, on reaching 
Bordeaux. The meal was swallowed in almost general silence, 
and when the officers and boys had retired, the captain observed 
to me, by way of explanation, that the crew had become indolent, 
and that he feared he should be compelled to make use of his 
pistols. He seemed aware of no other means of spurring their en- 
ergies than by such barbarity. The facihty with which a French- 
man, Spaniard or Italian glides from the most amiable and placid 
state of temper to the most intense hate and fury, en the shghtest 
provocation, is a marked feature in their character, and a Yankee 
in their company, if he desires to give no offence, is obliged 
to exercise the utmost caution of manner. 



ELEVATING EFFECTS OF OCEAN SCENERY. 53 



Two of our crew were natives of the Sandwich Islands. They 
w^ere very green when they came on board, in New York, having 
been to sea only in their passage from the Islands, and compre- 
hending not a word of the French language, and but a few sen- 
tences of English. Their progress was very marked. Before 
arriving at Havre, they could understand any order given, per- 
form with facility most of the ordinary duties, and even speak 
some French. They were quite inteUigent, and if a fair speci- 
men of their race, furnish cheering evidence of the capacity of 
this class to reach an advanced stage of civilization. 

Many complain, and with some justice, of the irksomeness of 
an Atlantic-passage ; and yet, to a contemplative mind, the ever 
varying scenery is full of the deepest interest. The immensity 
of the ocean, wrapping the extent of the globe ; its infinite 
changes, — at one time a glorious mirror, then, swelling in gentle, 
undulating waves, rolling their silver volume, and again, in wrath- 
ful spleen lifting their angry foreheads to the sky, impress the 
mind with awe, and elevate it to a larger conception of the Infinite 
Power, which can hold the waters in the hollow of his hand, and 
with his breath fan the languid air into the furious tornado. 
The imagination is busy in fathoming its unknown depths, and in 
figuring the unseen monsters that lurk beneath its treacherous 
bosom. 

Bright aurora, sending her glittering shafts across the eastern 
sky ; the orb of day springing from his briny couch, and casting 
a flood of light into illimitable space, careering through the vaulted 
arch, and then plunging into the sparkling waves ; the gorgeous 
tints of the western sky; the refulgent splendor of the starry 
night, like angel's eyes in azure robes ; the placid beauty of the 
queen of night, walking with graceful majesty through the heav- 
ens, and shedding her silvery light upon the smiling face of the 

5* 



54 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

ocean ; the fantastic aurora borealis gaily illumining the norther.^ 
heavens ; the water-spout, charged with the colors of the prism^ 
raising itself from the sea like a column of crystal, supporting the 
canopy of the sky, — each, and all, are infinitely beautiful, and 
furnish food to the mind and the eye. 

But the purest and highest pleasure derived from a sea-passage, 
to a mind imbued with deep religious feelings, is found in the 
circumstances which heighten the enjoyment of its Sabbaths. A 
Sabbath on the ocean, when all around is grand and lovely, may 
be made a most refreshing season to the spirit. There is some- 
thing in the situation, and the surrounding scenery, to open the 
soul to an intimate communion with thoughts of the spiritual 
world. Man's loneliness, his feebleness, and utter dependence 
upon a supreme power, is then more forcibly realized ; while the 
boundless expanse which everywhere meets his eye, the immense 
vault of heaven over his head, and the fathomless deep beneath 
his feet, are striking emblems, and heighten the idea of the vague 
and infinite future, towards which he is speeding. "What can be 
really more profitable, as well as spiritually fine, than a silent prom- 
enade, on some beautiful Sabbath evening, with a serene sky, pro- 
pitious breeze, and moon and fleecy clouds overhead ? The move- 
ment of the ship, darting forward in graceful celerity, quickens 
the sentiment of existence ; while those majestic creations of Na- 
ture's handiwork, floating in the azure vault, with an illimitable 
background of space, seem to elevate his soul, and beckon it to 
w^orlds where faith points to infinite happiness. I must say, that 
to me, the Sabbaths were not the most uninteresting features of our 
passage. Promenading the deck, and yielding to the inspiring in- 
fluences spread out all around, in such benificent profusion, or seated 
in some nook of the brig, studying the Scriptures, the hours came 
laden with golden treasures. The grand and simple language of 



SABBATHS AT SEA. ►jS 



the inestimable volume was greatly heightened by the sublimity 
of surrounding nature, while the blessed thoughts seemed to 
breathe a purer and hoher flame. I was certainly conscious of 
an awakening influence upon my own mind by the powerful ap- 
peals therein made to the wandering and fugitive soul, and of rev- 
elations of more intimate and broader views of the true purposes 
of human life, of the wisdom of Divine Providence, and of the 
holy attributes of an Eternal Father. 

The captain, differently educated, and under the influence of 
associations quite dissimilar to mine, in respect to the claims of 
the holy day, chose to while away the time, when the sea was 
sufficiently calm, in a more amusing manner ; but he had the po- 
liteness to allow perfect freedom of opinion, never seeking by his 
manner to annoy me in what must have been considered by him, 
peculiar habits, nor ever alluding, in the slightest manner, to sen- 
timents which led us to manners so different. One day, he exer- 
cised his skill with his rifle, in essaying to shoot upon the wing 
t^ome sea-birds that had been hovering upon our wake. This, I 
felt to be a double wrong, being not only a sacrilege upon the ho- 
liness of the day, but an inexcusable barbarity, thus to torture the 
inoffensive creatures which, like winged-messengers of friendship 
and gladness, had come to soothe and enliven the drear loneliness 
of our way. On another, he spent the forenoon in testing the 
trueness of his aim, at pistol-firing, at a target, the distance of the 
brig's length ; and I must confess that, so often did he pierce the 
centre of the paper aimed at, that I should have felt a little reluc- 
tant to be his antagonist in an affair of honor, if I had possessed 
the slightest repugnance to receiving an inconvenient piece of 
lead among the delicate machinery of the physical man. 

One Sunday, the captain announced that the day would be 
noted by the death of one of our quadrupeds, and facetiously ob 



56 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



served to me tliat tlie mate, who was a true hero in such matters, 
would be the executioner. The shghtest incident in a searvoyage, 
becomes a matter of real interest and importance, in arousing ex- 
citement. All were soon upon the scene of action. Presently 
the mate, duly armed with a most fatal looking knife, gleaming in 
the wintry air, made his appearance. The ill-fated quadruped, as 
if inspired with a prescience of approaching doom, precipitately 
fled, and remained ensconced under a part of the long-boat, — and 
there, with a sullen but plaintive grunt, seemed to beg us to desist 
from our cruel and unnatural designs upon his life. He resisted suc- 
cessfully for some time the adroitness of the several persons who, 
by turns, sought to dislodge him from his retreat ; but finally Jack, 
more successful, secured him by the hind legs, and drew him forth, 
— the little fellow kicking, uttering his piercing shrieks, and pul- 
ling back with true piggish pertinacity. It was all of no avail. 
He was laid upon his back on a table ; one boy held fast his ex- 
tremities ; and the mate with one hand held fast his muzzle, — the 
knife gleamed, the blood spirted up, then flowed gurglingly into a 
basin held by one of the boys, he quickly stirring it all the time 
to prevent its coagulating. At the spectacle, I involuntarily 
turned away, ejaculating an anathema at the barbarity of man, and 
breathing a sigh of commiseration at the fate of our fellow-voy- 
ager. Poor fellow ! He was not allowed the humble privilege of 
squealing in liis agonies. After contributing much to amuse us by 
his antics, during the voyage, he had fallen a victim to man's cu- 
pidity and heartlessness. Thus it is with life ; those whom we 
have most befriended, are often the first to aid in our downfall and 
ruin ! As to the butchery, it was done with a dexterity which 
showed, that in matters relating to the cuisine, certainly, the 
French can challenge competition with the entire world beside. 
But to return. The bright morning of the next day (January 



ARRIVAL AT HAVRE. 57 



1st), revealed to our eager view the port of Havre. Soon, a 
small boat was seen approacliing us, from ttie harbor, and rowino- 
alongside, the pilot jumped on board of the brig, and nodding to 
me as he passed along, greeted cordially the captain ; when, de- 
scending to the cabin together, they were in a moment engaged in 
earnest and voluble conversation. The basket of news was quite 
emptied, when a lively discussion of its contents ensued between 
them, which lasted several hours. 

Being a httle too late in the tide, we were obliged to reconcile 
ourselves to a delay, the more ii'k'some, as it was fete-day in the 
city. I was however offered a passage ashore in the boat, but 
preferred remaining to finish my letters for home. 

"We were notified late in the afternoon of the flood, by the de- 
parture of the Southampton steamer, when, after a " hasty plate 
of soup," we squared away for the entrance of the port. In a few 
minutes v/e were sweeping gaily along, between the massive 
granite piers, that stretch fixv out into the harbor, forming a wide 
and deep canal, leading into the inner basin. The western pier was 
covered with people, attracted thither by the pleasures of an 
evening's promenade. They gazed on us w^ith lively interest, as 
we sped past them; while on my part, being thus suddenly ushered 
into the presence of so many human beings, and the novelty of 
their mien and costume, filled me with pleasurable curiosity. The 
gates of the noble canal were soon opened, and we passed quickly 
into the wall-locked harbor, makmg fast in a magnificent basin in 
the very heart of the city. 

Declining an invitation from the captain to visit some acquaint- 
ances of his, in town, I experienced more pleasure in promenading 
the deck alone, yielding to reflections ushered in by the transitions 
of the scenes of a day. Later, however, I stepped ashore, and 
cautiously threading my way through parts imperfectly known to 



58 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



me, soon found myself bending over a Parisian journal in one of 
the principal Coffee-houses of the city. It being New-year's day, 
the city was better hghted than commonly, and the promenades 
and cafe's were unusually thronged. As I passed along, the ani- 
mating movement of the crowd, the silvery tones of the females^ 
the wild and merry laugh of the children, kindled within me emo- 
tions which were greatly heightened by the change from the 
monotony of a sea-passage, to the full and social amenities of a 
city. 

I was not permitted, the next morning, to remove my luggage 
from the brig, although the captain exerted his influence for me, as 
it would have involved some informalities in the custom-house 
regulations. These government restrictions, so different to an 
American, from what he ever meets with at home, and so con- 
trary to his idea of civil freedom, are annoying enough to him. 
But the better pohcy, as well as the better morality, is to submit 
to them with the utmost frankness and good humor. Much un- 
pleasant feeling, if not petty trouble, is thus prevented. 

The captain took me early to the office of his consignee, who 
gave me the address of Mr. Stanton, then our consul at Havre. 
The latter gentleman received me with all due kindness, and had 
the goodness to loan me late journals from the United States. He 
made me a certificate of American citizenshi]), to enable me to pro- 
cure from the French authorities a passport, — I having inadvert- 
ently neglected to procure one in New York, before taking leave. 
On learning that one principal object of my visitmg Europe, was 
to inspect the schools and educational establishments, he had the 
politeness to give me a note of introduction to the Principal of the 
most distinguished private school in the city, of which his son 
was pupil. At the same time he observed, that the schools in 
Havre were inferior to the best in the United States. 



FEENCH MODE OF LIVING. 59 



On leaving tlie liouse of the American consul, I met the cap- 
tain, who kindly offered his services to aid me in finding comforta- 
ble rooms. We entered a house of respectable appearance, the 
landlady of which was an intimate acquaintance of my companion. 
She took us hastily through her unoccupied rooms, briefly expa- 
tiating upon their several peculiar excellences, — but the remain- 
der of the time she was engrossed in the most lively conversation 
with the captain. As she was naming the price of meals, he ven- 
tured to observe that her charge was too much. Ah, mon Dieu, 
7ion, 3Ionsieur (she replied, with inimitable French exclamation), 
" the Englishman eats so much beef-steak for dinner." " But," re- 
plied the captain, "you are not so dull as to take my friend for an 
Englishman. He is, you must know, on the contrary, a true-blooded 
American, — a Yankee from the United States of America." Eh, 
bien, retorted the woman, "it is all the same. Englishman or 
American, they both like much meat for dinner, and that is very 
expensive." We left, — I promising to return within a mentioned 
time, if I decided to take rooms at her house. 

The agreeableness of one's stay in a foreign city, as well as his 
personal comfort in the time, will greatly depend upon the eligible- 
ness of his quarters, and the particular amenities of his hotel. As 
I could not remove my luggage from the brig till evening, I felt 
that the interim might not be spent in a more pleasing and instruc- 
tive way to me, than in choosing my quarters in the city, with the 
utmost deliberation, — examining things leisurely, with the double 
view of making a favorable selection in a room, and of casting a 
scrutinizing glance into this department of French hfe ; and my 
researches were crowned with curious interest. It will be well 
here to state, that the French mode of living, in cities, as practised 
by a large part of the inhabitants, differs widely from that with 
us, an \ forms a marked feature in French life. Instead of throng- 



60 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



ing in boarding-houses, and eating in great haste, at a specified 
hour, it is a common practice to hire a furnished room, with the 
services of a domestic to keep it in order, and to brush your 
clothes and pohsh your boots, at a moderate price, and to take 
your meals at the restaurants, cafes, or even to have them 
brought to your room in quantity and of a quality to suit your 
palate or pecuniary disposition. Not only does the bachelor of 
small means and retired habits, live in this way ; but it is followed 
even by professional men, by respectable merchants, often by weal- 
thy citizens, and not unfrequently by ladies of character and repu- 
tation. This peculiar way of living, compared with our mode, 
practised by the same class of society, has a forbidding feature, it 
is true ; but it also has its charms. If it lacks the glow and en- 
dearment of the fireside circle, it can claim the complacent grati- 
fication of luxurious ease and perfect independence. To the 
traveller, it is certainly most convenient and agreeable. He can 
thus rise and retire when he pleases, take his meals when his ap- 
petite prompts, and where he chances at the time to be, — with 
the privilege of selecting his dishes, and paying for such only as 
he orders. 

After leaving the brilliant Rue de Paris, which extends to the 
north, quite through the city, I soon perceived the object of which 
I was in quest. Furnished rooms were seen advertised all around. 
A loner (to let); ckamhres d louer (rooms to let) ; une petite cham- 
bre garnie d louer (a small furnished room to let), were so fre- 
quent as to remind you of the sign-boards of the most business- 
thronged part of the city. The rooms were of every variety of 
size and furnish, adapted to the varying wants of different appli- 
cants. I examined each, as I passed along, making the most 
minute inquiries, and asking all pertinent questions that I could 
possibly think of. The apartments bore a faithful, but often an 



FEENCH LODGINGS. 61 



hamble imitation of furnished lodgings in Paris, to which, in mat- 
ters of taste, not only the provincial towns, but even the seaports, 
still look up with obsequious deference. The two prevailing pe- 
cuHarities in the rooms here, as elsewhere in France, were ample- 
ness of sj^ace, and the number and variety of useful and ornamen- 
tal articles Mdth which they were fastidiously furnished. The 
size of the rooms varied of course with the price of rent ; but 
even the cheapest possessed a degree of spaciousness that plainly 
told that, in a practical knowledge of the laws of hygiene, the 
French are, in this respect, greatly our superiors. They were not 
only furnished, as often with us, with an empty secretary, a clothes- 
press, ample means for ablution, etc., but with many other articles 
either of convenience or mere ornament, such as a mantel-clock, 
sofa, shower-bath, writing-desk and apparatus, library-case, and 
mere adornments of mantel-vases, pieces of statuary, pictures, and 
the more trivial and purely ornamental articles. The floors, either 
paved with wide, smooth bricks, or blocks of hard wood, set in mo- 
saic, and of highly polished surface, were rarely covered with 
carpeting, or more than a mere hearth-rug or two. The beds 
themselves were luxuries. They usually stood in a recess of the 
room, being of the easy and voluptuous form of a couch, and hav- 
ing curtains not unfrequently of damask or silk, gracefully cano- 
pied over them. The mattress, which in France is always of 
wool, is neater, and, speaking from experience, infinitely more com- 
fortable than either feathers or hair. The hed-linen is never of 
cotton material, and the covering of the pillow is sometimes silk. 
A French bed-chamber thus possesses an air of grace, luxury, and 
even oriental splendor, that is quite captivating to the senses. But 
it must be acknowledged, that a severely simple taste is sometimes 
shocked at the incongruous medley in the articles of furniture, 
and the profusion of trinkets used as ornaments. There is some- 

6 



62 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



times a most ludicrous contrast between the rich, second-hand fur 
niture, magnificent mirrors, and the coarse and homely ai^pearance 
of the walls and wainscoting, that reminds you of pride in rags. 
The way to these miniature elysiums, too, is often through a wet 
and squalid court, up, for several stories, a crooked, narrow, dismal, 
rough-stone stairway, so dark, as often to require the presence of 
a light to thread your way along it, even in the day time. Unless 
you select one of the very few, comparatively speaking, of the 
rooms that look out upon the street, — as you glance through your 
window, your eye meets smoky, tiled roofs, roughly cut, and un- 
graceful angles of buildings, or recesses and narrow alleys, un- 
seemly with accumulated filth ; while, if you move from the im- 
mediate splendor that surrounds you, your spirits are chilled with 
the damp, lugubrious, and prison-dreariness that pervades all 
around. Thus situated, you are quite alone, although there may 
be scores of human beings half-imprisoned in the same house, se- 
parated only by walls. You will see none of the inmates of the 
same general dwelling, except you accidentally meet in passing to 
and from your apartment, some one of the indwellers who have 
to pass through the same general inlet. If a gentleman, he politely 
makes a passing recognition ; or if, perchance, the garrulous maid, 
with tidy cap and coarse petticoat, or the good-natured male do- 
mestic in blouse, both clubbing in wooden shoes over the stone 
steps, cracking their jokes in merry simplicity, they will step aside 
with deference to let you pass, or with alacrity comply with your 
demands. 

I finally secured a pleasant room, at a reasonable price, of a 
very agreeable woman; and it may be observed, by the way, that 
females transact all such business in France. Her only child, a 
simple-hearted girl, of perhaps fifteen or sixteen years of age, had 
lately been married to a young man, a little her senior in age, and 



VISIT TO A SCHOOL. '' 63 



greatly her superior in intelligeuce and style of manners. He 
gave me with apparent pleasure such information as I desired, and 
from him I leai^ned that although he honored the family with his 
company at breakfast, in their narrow tea-parlor, yet he invaria- 
bly took his dinners at a restaurant, either alone or with some 
friends. He followed no particular business, but managed to pass 
as a kind of second-rate gentleman. The good woman, his bride's 
mother, seemed proud of her son-in-law, and perfectly doated on 
her daughter. She lived in the most frugal manner imaginable, — 
thus husbanding her earnings, which were destined, doubtless, to 
maintain the newly-acquked dignity of her fond and loving daugh- 
ter. The ancient idea of marriage in France, by which wedlock 
was entered upon out of motives of ambition, or of personal ag- 
grandizement, or as a mere arrangement of convenience, is not 
yet quite freed from society. 

Having become fairly domiciled, I took an early opportunity, 

as might be supposed, to visit the school of Monsieur P , to 

whom I had a letter of introduction from Mr. Stanton. Accord- 
ingly, the next day, at an early hour in the forenoon, I reached 
the school-building, but by some mistake, strayed into the cusine 
of the establishment, instead of the drawing-room of the princi- 
pal. My unexpected appearance among some dozen female cooks 
and laundress-women (for it was a boarding establishment), pro- 
duced some confusion as well as merriment. On learning my 
errand, however, one of them, clad in a cap of snowy-whiteness, 
coarse but tidy petticoat, and wooden shoes, bid me follow her ; 
and, leading the way out of the spacious, plain, but exceedingly 
neat kitchen, up a broad and clean stairway, ushered me into the 
reception-room of the establishment. The bell rang, and presently 
the door opened a little way, and a portly face, beaming with ex- 
pression, and redolent with health, clad in a small velvet cap* 



64 CEESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



peeped into the room, and excused himself till four o'clock, saying 
that he was then engaged with some classes. It was precisely 
what I wished to see, — the principal teacher instructing his classes, 
— but before I could find time to reply, he had disappeared. As 
the day was bright, (something quite rare at this season in Havre,) 
I decided to make a visit to the Cote d' Ingouville, which is a 
suburb directly north of the city. It is situated on the steep de- 
chvity of a ridge which overlooks the town, and is adorned with 
beautiful mansions, embowered in shrubbery and surrounded with 
gardens, which rise in terraces one above the other. At the gate 
of Ingouville, you have a partial view of the fortifications of the 
city. They were begun by Louis XII, continued by many suc- 
ceeding sovereigns, but only completed by Napoleon. They are 
about three and a half miles in circuit, and consist of bastioned 
ramparts surrounded by trenches. 

The prospect from the heights of Ingouville, if it be a clear 
day, well repays the somewhat toilsome ascent, by the parallel 
streets of the village, which run horizontally along the side of the 
declivity, and communicate by narrow cross-streets. From the 
elevation upon which you stand, there stretches far away to the 
north and east, quite beyond sight, an uninterrupted verdant, 
grassy plain, in appearance, not altogether unlike some humble 
prairie of the West, in the early mantling of sj)ring. As you 
turn towards the Avest and south, your eye falls upon the broad 
estuary of the Seine, embraced in arms of bold shores, moving 
its breast towards the stormy North Sea. Below you is the 
life-throbbing city, with its grand basins, forests of masts, glitter- 
ing spires, and dingy edifices, surrounded by bastioned walls. A 
little farther, just across the stream, peers the little village of 
Honfleur, nestled in harmonious surroundings, while far away to 
the south-east, sweeps in graceful curves the noble Seine, with 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE IN HAVEE. 65 

perhaps a steamer swiftly gliding upon its gentle bosom. The 
view is no less extensive than picturesque and lovely. 

In descending, I overtook an aged gentleman whom I had the 
good fortune to enlist at once in conversation. A Httle way on 
was his daughter, accompanied by a merry group of children, to 
whom she was the admired governess. They were improving 
the lovely afternoon in a stroll, and right heartily did they appear 
to enjoy the healthful pleasure. They bounded along in a wild 
excitement of joy, innocently vicing with each other in their at- 
tempts to heighten the enjoyment of their devoted teacher. The 
father, in his wandering loquacity, touched upon the many excel- 
lent qualities of his beloved daughter with all a parent's partiality, 
and recommended her superiority as a teacher, in a manner only 
pardonable in age. They were French children, and she M^as 
their instructor in English. According to my informant, they had 
enjoyed scarcely no other advantages of learning to speak English, 
except in their intercourse with their teacher and with each other; 
and yet in the very short space of time which she had been 
then- governess, they had learned to speak astonishingly well. 
To convince me of the truth of his assertions, he called to him 
a little boy of the number, who replied to my questions with 
such natural expressions, and with a pronunciation and accent so 
accurate as quite to surprise me, although I was fully aware that 
very young children will readily learn to speak with idiomatic 
ease as many languages as they are accustomed to hear spoken 
around them. 

You hear English very commonly spoken in Havre. The large 
number of Americans and English always in the city, and the im- 
mense trade carried on with those people, make some practical 
knowledge of the language indispensable to the mercantile portion 
of the French residents, and to such others as have business with 

G* 



66 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



those who speak the English. But, besides this, the English 
language is cultivated by all classes, as a useful and fashionable 
accomplishment. The remark is applicable, with slight modifica- 
tion, to other cities and large towns in France. 

These children whom I met, illustrate the mode pursued gene- 
rally in France, by the wealthier classes, to give their children a 
thorough and efficient knowledge of a foreign tongue ; and it is 
based on correct principles of action. Instead of leaving their 
children to grow to an age when their minds are capable of 
more severe studies, and then giving them a dictionary and 
grammar, to learn practical language, they adopt a plan sim- 
pler, and more in accordance with nature's teaching, — that of 
placing their youth at an early age in a situation to hear the lan- 
guage spoken, which they then acquire with the utmost ease, and 
almost intuitively ; and at an advanced age, they are set upon the 
grammar and philosophy of the language, and attracted to explore 
the riches of its literature. In this way, the student gets such an 
apprehension of the language he is studying, as to be of positive 
utility to him in the practical pursuits of life ; — and further, of 
immense advantage in the harmonious development of his powers, 
— and so intimate and thorough, as to be a real source of re- 
fined pleasure. By the other way, he rarely gains more than a 
smattering ; his knowledge being so cumbersome, as to prove of 
little use or advantage, ever subjecting its possessor to vexation 
and chagrin. 

The period of childhood and early youth, too, is altogether the 
most favorable for acquiring a certain part of a language, which 
can never be learned half so well at a more advanced age, ifj in- 
deed, it can then be learned at all. It is at this period that the 
ear is peculiarly delicate in discriminating sounds, and the vocal 
organs flexible to execute their form. At this time in life, the 



BEST MODE OF TEACHING CHILDREN. 67 



faculty of imitation is in active play, and tlie memory is quick and 
seizable. Pronunciation of words, accent, idiom, wLdch most 
stubbornly resist all laws of analogy in language, are mastered so 
easily and rapidly by the cliild in habitual intercourse with a cor- 
rect model, that he is almost unconscious of his acquisition. It 
has been more a sportive exercise, than a task. Now, it is just this 
part of a language which the adult finds it most difficult to learn ; 
which, in fact, he never does learn, except in rare instances, with 
any high degree of success. And what is more, all this is done 
by the young pupil, when he could not be accomplishing much 
else in learning, — thus converting comparatively valueless time 
into golden moments, laden with the rich treasure of future years. 

The practice abroad, of employing, at great expense, a gov- 
erness, as teacher of young children, might with us be very pleas- 
antly improved upon, at least in this branch of education. In the 
respectably-educated families of New England, certainly, the time 
of the mother is not, in general, so completely engrossed with the 
forms of empty etiquette, as to leave absolutely no time for fa- 
miliar intercourse with her young children. Let but such a mo- 
ther possess the power of sj)eaking fluently, and with correctness, 
one or more of the prevailing languages of Europe, which she 
might as easily have learned from her own parent, and her tender 
offspring, only from hearing it used in daily intercourse, will glide 
into its acquisition as naturally, and with as much ease, as it learns 
its own tongue, or reflects the tone "and manners of those by 
whom it is surrounded. And is not this a consummation to be 
desired ? How much of the learning sagely prescribed in school 
requisitions, is not really much less practical and useful, in the 
average lot of life, than a speaking acquaintance with one of the 
most extensively-used languages of Europe. 

The gigantic improvements in the facilities of travel, which are 



68 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-Vv^OELD. 



fast bringing the nations of tlie earth in actual contact, and the 
spirit of the age kindhng a desire for an enlarged intercourse of 
man with man, together with the rapidly increasing and intimate 
business relations of the mercantile world, seem to make a knowl- 
edge of some of the modern languages quite indispensable to such 
as venture beyond the narrow circle of village life ; and this need 
is every day fast increasing. 

My new acquaintance, to whom I was indebted for several items 
of information, admitted most fully, that the view from the heights 
was grand and lovely ; but it was not quite equal to that from the 
Downs in England. This I considered an altogether natural re- 
servation for an Englishman to make, who, whatever beauty he is 
forced to admit in a superior object abroad, always thinks of 
something in " Old England," which a little surpasses it. Many 
of the mansions, he said, were the residences of wealthy English 
famihes, attracted thither by the eligibility of the location, or, 
perhaps, from motives of economy, — but that there was little 
social intercourse between them and the French, even when 
circumstances favored such intercourse. It seemed that the in 
veterate hatred which has from time immemorial existed between 
the two countries, had sent its roots so deep mto the soil of the 
national mind, as never to be eradicated. He remarked, that the 
trade at Havre was enormous, and that many merchants had be- 
come ruined the past winter, by excessive speculation. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

BECEPTIOlSr BY MONS. P . — AMERICAN NEWS A SMALL SPACE 

m EUROPEAN JOURNALS — NOTRE DAME — MUSEUM — VIRGIN 
MARY — ORIGIN OF HAVRE — NEW DOCK — AMERICAN SHIPS. 

Punctual at the hour appointed, I was back at the door of 
Mons. P's school. A waiter at once showed me into his private 
library, where he was standing in conversation with a gentleman. 
Without offering me a seat, he drew from his pocket my note of 
introduction, which I had left in the morning ; and, after glancing 
at its contents, and observing that he did not read English, begged 
that I would inform him of my desire. To my request of the fa- 
vor of seeing his school, he replied with an embarrassed air, that 
as the entire intercourse was in the French language, that I might 
not Avell understand everything. To this, I ventured to say, that 
I should doubtless be amply compensated for any loss that I should 
have to forego, on account of an imperfect acquaintance with his 
language ; and I observed further, that perhaps the eye would 
prove an auxiliary. Whereupon he frankly stated, that he had 
made it an mvariable rule, never to admit strangers to witness the 
recitations of his school. It embarrassed the pupils, and inter- 
rupted the exercises ; and then commenced a series of bows, so 
full of meaning, that I found myself unconsciously moving toward 
the door, where I encountered his professor in Enghsh. The lat- 
ter gentleman passed out with me, appearing chagrined at my re- 
ception. As a partial amends for my disappointment, he evinced 



70 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



toward me tlie kindest manner imaginable, and, on parting, gave 
me his card, and begged tbat I would accept of bis services while 
in the city. 

This was my first visit to any European school, and I with some 
reason felt it to be anything but flattering to my hopes of a free 
and minute inspection of the modes of instruction pursued abroad. 

As to Mons. P , he was doubtless governed by ideas which 

we, reared among free institutions, hardly know. Further, his 
splendid library, genteel dress, and aristocratic air, all bespoke a 
flourishing condition of his school ; yet I could not quite dispel a 
lurking suspicion I always entertain in respect to the entire thor- 
oughness of that instruction which is so carefully veiled from 
public examination. There may be cases, where the school-room 
door should be closed to all visitors; but in general, I would have 
even the walls of the room of the transparency of glass, that the 
passing, every day world may look in upon the miniature empire 
within. 

President Polk's late message to Congress was reviewed by the 
leading Parisian journals, in a spirit of candor quite different from 
the tone of the English press, and especially that of the London 
Times' school of politics. American news, however, occupies but 
the shortest space imaginable in the European columns. 

Havre has not many public edifices of particular interest. 
Among those deserving of mention are the Tower, of Francis 
I ; a heavy, round edifice of free-stone, built by that monarch, 
nearly seventy feet in height, and eighty-five in diameter, which 
guards the entrance of the harbor on one side, and a small battery, 
mounting six pieces of cannon, on the other. The citadel, con- 
structed by E-ichelieu, in 1564, comprises the barracks, military 
arsenal, residence of the governor, etc. Some of the other public 
buildings are the marine arsenal, new theatre, commenced in 1817, 



]\rUSEUM AT HAVEE. Jj 



excliRDge, custom-house, entrepot general, and Royal tobacco 
manufactorj. Among the churches, the principal is Notre Dame 
a singular edifice of the sixteenth century. I entered this church 
in the midst of a funeral ceremony. The coffin, of narrow dimen- 
sions, and of plain, unpainted wood, was covered with a pall of 
richly embroidered black cloth, and surrounded by a number of 
burning wax tapers, perhaps six feet in length. In a part of the 
nave, near the altar, were the choristers and musicians, in solemn 
and funereal dirge, chanting a requiem to the departed spirit. An 
ecclesiastic, in sacerdotal robes, conducted the impressive exercise, 
accompanying the music with the deep and pecuhar tones of his 
voice ; and all the time pacing to and fro, before the altar. A 
number of rehgious devotees, or friends of the deceased, were 
promiscuously scattered in different parts of the nave of the 
church, either in the attitude of sitting or kneeling, and with a 
manner and expression of the deepest religious veneration. Pre- 
sently, an officer with the insignia of office, accompanied by a num- 
ber of boys, perhaps twelve or fifteen years of age, appropriately 
costumed, escorted some half-dozen ecclesiastics, who passed before 
the altar, crossed themselves, and then retired. The entire cere- 
mony was by no means wanting in religious awe and impressive- 
ness, though of course destitute of the simplicity of worship which 
characterizes our protestant forms. 

But the main object of interest in Havre, to the lover of art, is 
the Museum, which stands at the head of one of the principal 
quays. It is an edifice of considerable architectural merit, dedi- 
cated to sculpture, natural history, painting, and literature. The 
principal hall of the Rez-de-Chaussee,ov ground-floor, is filled with 
statues and bass-reliefs. Among them is The Pedagogue, and A 
son of Niohe. The galleries, extending quite around the hall, are 
filled with a respectable collection of specimens in the several de- 



72 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



partments of natural liistor j. The saloon, or j)rincipal hall of the 
next story, is embellished with paintings. The number is not less 
than four hundred, and taken together, illustrate the ancient and 
modern condition of the art, as well as the several schools. 
Among them, are fine specimens from the immortal pencil of Reu- 
bens^ Vandyke, Raphael, Poussi?i, Gerard Dow, Murillo, Rem- 
brandt and others, familiar to fame. This important collection 
had been recently greatly enriched by the munificence of Mr. 
Stephens, of Paris, who had given a marked proof of his benevo- 
lent disposition toward the city of Havre, by placing at its dispo- 
sal for the museum, a collection of choice paintings. A further 
trait of noble generosity, which will be appreciated by artists, was 
his granting permission to this class to make studies from the 
sublime creations. It is a characteristic of the fine arts, that while 
they ennoble the mind and refine the heart, they also awaken the 
desire to share with others the exalted pleasure they afiTord. 

I made notes of the paintings that struck me most favorably ; 
but as I cannot hope that the reader would obtain a very intelligible 
idea of them, by any description of mine, I must refrain from the 
attempt. Let me not omit to speak briefly, however, of two or 
three of these triumphs of human genius. On entering the prin- 
cipal gallery, the eye is at once arrested by a painting of unusual 
size, by a modern artist, representing Christ driving out of the 
Temj^le the Money Changers and Merchandize Venders. The 
sketching of the piece, denotes boldness of design ; and the atti- 
tude and expression of the actors represented, are quite natural. 
It has, moreover, the high coloring of the French modern school, 
united with admirable finish of detail. Chastity is represented as 
a female of exquisite form, and a countenance of angelic expres- 
sion. She is gently spurning the approaches of Furio, at the same 
time pointing to heaven in admonition for aid. The conception of 



PUBLIC LIBKAEIES. 73 



the painter is most successfully embodied upon tlie canvas. There 
is another painting in the collection, by a living artist, which goes 
far to prove to my uncultivated eye, that modern art is by no 
means waning. It is a representation of the Virgin Mary, with 
the Infant Christ sleeping in her arms. As you stand gazing in 
mute rapture upon the lovely forms before you, you unconsciously 
bend forward, almost in expectation of hearing the gentle and de- 
licious breathing of the heavenly child, so perfectly life-like is it 
dehneated ; while the soft and tender lustre of the slightly up- 
turned eye of the mother, so fuU of Divine hope and pious resig- 
nation, but lends ii-resistible effect to the angelic expression of her 
face. The painting possesses points of excellence, that I did not 
find surpassed in the collection ; and I felt almost to worship the 
genius that could transform to the living canvas, conceptions so 
beautiful and heaven-like. 

In an adjoining room is a collection of manuscripts, and also 
the Madeline, by Gayrard, in marble. In another, is the Library, 
which has twenty-twc Lhousand volumes. It is open to the public 
nearly every day in the week, — and not only warmed, lighted, 
furnished with table, seats, writing materials, but there is always in 
attendance a courteous librarian, who promptly provides you with 
whatever book in the room you may call for, and seems almost to 
be able to anticipate your desires. This is entirely free, as they 
are elsewhere in France ; and illustrates the noble care of the 
government of the claims of literature upon the community at 
large. Among other busts, are those of Voltaire and Rousseau, in 
the archivault of the gallery. The French mind universally, as 
well as that of the entire continent, bows with lowly reverence to 
the almost omnipotent sway of these powerful but singular de- 
parted sphits. They were to French literature, what Napoleon 
was to its military glory ; and neither the one nor the other can 

7 



74 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



be spoken of before a Frenchman, without exciting in his breast 
the most burning enthusiasm. 

The origin of Havre is quite obscure, it having been for some 
time an unimportant fishing-town. The present site was succes- 
sively occupied by the Gauls, the Celts, and the Komans ; but the 
Northmen were the first people to whom the present city is in- 
debted ; and Francis the First has the honor of being its founder. 
One of these bold invaders, Rollo by name, the Dane, as he was 
called, though a native of Norway, and chieftain by birth, being 
of a wild and adventurous disposition, and having with his follow- 
ers committed many piracies and robberies, were at length expelled 
the country by the king. They took refuge on some of the isl- 
ands that form gloomy and mountainous groups on the western 
coast of Scotland, which have been, in many different periods of 
the world, the refuge of fugitives and outlaws. Thence they 
made several fruitless attempts to land upon the English shores, 
but were everywhere repulsed. This was in the time of Alfred 
the Great. They afterwards made a descent upon Flanders, de- 
feated Hainault, its king, and compelled the countess his wife, to 
raise and pay an immense sum for his ransom. Coasting upon 
the north-western shores of France, after many attempts to land, 
which proved unsuccessful from the nature of that part of the 
French coast, they at length effected an entrance of the river 
Seine, and sailed up the river as far as Rouen. The haven at 
the mouth of the river being on the whole the best and most com- 
modious on the coast, was called the harbor, or as the French ex- 
pressed it in their language, le Havre, the word havre, meaning 
harbor. In fact, the name was in full le havre de grace, as if the 
Northmen, or Normans, considered it a matter of especial good 
luck to have even such a chance of a harbor as this at the mouth 
of their river. 



COMMERCIAL IMPORTANCE OF HAVRE. 75 

Havre, from tlie circumstances of its situation, is necessarily a 
great commercial emporium of France. It is the only respectable 
harbor on this part of the French coast. The river-mouths, and 
natural indentations along the perpendicular ranges of cliffs that 
form the coast, which might form harbors, are so exposed to the 
generally prevailing north-west winds, driving such a continual 
swell of rolling surges in upon the shore, as to choke up all the 
estuary openings with shoals and bars of sand and shingle. It is 
the seaport of Paris ; and, in regard to its importance, is to 
France, what Liverpool is to England. Lideed, it was a remark 
of Napoleon, that " Paris, Pouen, and Havre, form only a single 
city, of which the Seine is the great street." In the year 1836, 
Havre received seven-tenths of the cotton imported into France, 
more than half of the tobacco and wood for cabinet-work, half the 
potash and indigo, more than two-fifths of the rice and dye-woods, 
and more than one-third part of the sugar and coffee. It is built 
on a low, alluvial tract of ground, formerly covered by the sea, and 
is divided into two unequal parts, by its outer ports and basins, 
which stretch mto the town, and insulate the quarter of St. Francis. 
There are nine quays, which, with the high street, form the favor- 
ite promenades. It has numerous public fountains, and is weU 
supplied with water, conveyed by pipes from the vicinity. The 
port consists of three basins, separated from each other, and from 
the outer port, by four locks, and capable of accommodating about 
four hundred and fifty ships. These accommodations being inade- 
quate to the growing importance of its trade, in 1839, the French 
government demanded six millions of francs for its augmentation 
and improvement. The entrance being too narrow to admit the ^^ 
passage of large steamers, they were formerly obliged to remain -^ 
in the outer port, imperfectly sheltered from high winds ; but a 
new basin is being constructed on the south-east, near the entrance. 



76 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

It is to be spacious, and of splendid construction. I was told that 
it would be completed in three years longer, — it having already- 
been in progress two years. A large body of water being re- 
tained by a sluice, and discharged at ebb tide, clears the entrance 
of the harbor, and prevents accumulation of filth. The rise of 
the tide is from twenty-two to twenty-seven feet ; and by taking 
advantage of it, the largest class of merchantmen enter the port. 
The water in the harbor does not begin perceptibly to subside, till 
about three hours after high water, — a peculiarity ascribed to the 
current down the Seine, across the entrance of the harbor, being 
sufficiently powerful to dam up for a while the water in the latter. 
Large fleets taking advantage of this circumstance, are able to 
leave the port in a single day, and get to sea, even though the 
wind should be unfavorable. The pier which forms the western 
entrance of the harbor, is about fourteen hundred feet in length, 
to the Tower, and extends into the ocean about three hundred and 
fifty feet. It affords a most delightful and romantic promenade, 
and is much frequented as such, by all classes. The principal part 
of the numerous shipping in port, were large American ships, which 
brought hither cotton, and were to take emigrant passengers chiefly 
to the United States, in return, and colliers from England. The 
week in Havre was improved most agreeably by me, — my curi- 
osity and interest not flagging for a moment, although I had before 
passed a winter there, and was in consequence quite familiar with 
its general physique. 



CHAPTER IX. 

HONESTY OF THE FRENCH TO TRAVELLERS — LEAVING THE 
CITY — SCENERY THROUGH NORMANDY — PICTURESQUE COS- 
TUME OF THE FARMERS — THE SANG-FROID OF A FRENCH 
WOMAN — HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS — ARRIVAL IN ROUEN 

— KINDNESS OF LANDLORD AND LADY MARKET-WOMEN 

UNDER MY WINDOW — GRANDEUR OF ROUEN CATHEDRAL 

RICHNESS OF INTERIOR — ROLLO, THE NORMAN — CHURCH OF 
ST. OWEN — STATUE OF VOLTAIRE — PALAIS DE JUSTICE — 
MAID OF ORLEANS — VIEW FROM THE COTE DE ST. CATHE- 
RINE — AN HISTORICAL MENTAL PICTURE — THE ANCIENT 
PORT OF THE CITY — SUPPER VIEW OF THE CITY. 

On Friday, the 7th, at 2 o'clock, p. m., I left for Eouen. A 
slight incident occurred in the omnibus on the way to the depot, 
which illustrates the perfectly honest disposition of the French 
people, and the honorable treatment shown to strangers, by the 
agents and attendants on the travelling routes. On paying my 
fare to Rouen, at the office in Havre, I had also paid it to the de- 
pot, in the omnibus. This latter, it seemed, was not generally 
done, — the omnibus line being in the hands of another company. 
Before reaching the depot, the attendant came round and took 
the fare from the passengers, and I paid with the rest. In a mo- 
ment after, I bethought myself that I had thus paid the same fare 
twice, and stated the fact to the gentleman sitting near me, and to 
the attendant. The latter at first looked a little incredulous, but 

7* 



78 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



in a moment promptly refunded me the price of fare, while all in 
the carriage looked and spoke as if they expected he would do so 
as a matter of course. 

The train of cars comprise three classes. In the first, or su- 
perior, travel the aristocracy and the wealthy ; the second class of 
cars is filled with the middling and respectable sort of people ; 
while the third is thronged with the peasantry and those of the 
poorest condition of society. The first, and second class of cars, 
which differ from each other in little more than name and rate of 
charge, are separate carriages of neat construction, and fitted up 
interiorly in a comfortable manner. The distance from Havre to 
Rouen is fifty-five miles, and the fare in the different grades of 
cars, respectively, is ten francs, seven francs and fifty centimes, and 
five francs. A slight additional charge is made for your luggage ; 
and the company hold themselves responsible for its loss within a 
limited value. 

The utmost precaution is taken by the several officers of the 
lines, to prevent mistakes ; and the arrangements to avoid em- 
barrassments in passing to seats, in the carriages, are admirable. 
There is seen but little of the confused and hurried movement, so 
often witnessed among us, in scrambling for seats in the cars, when 
the bell rings, although we are wont to associate with the French 
physical man a tendency to impulsive movement. 

As we sped from out of the dense and gloomy walls of the city 
so suddenly into the smiling suburbs, — gladdened by the pleas- 
ing aspects of rural life, I was filled with rapturous emotions. 
Doubtless, the dreary mantle of Nature's drapery which had now 
for several weeks enshrouded my mind, being thus suddenly re- 
moved, had a positive influence in the effect which the grateful 
scenery produced ; but there was something so unusual in winter- 
scenery in the pervading verdure, enamelling the gardens and 



SCENERY OF FRANCE. 79 



pastures, as to create a most pleasing surprise ; while the pic- 
turesque combination of narrow walks fenced with shrubbery, 
broad and majestic avenues lined with hoary elms, variegated 
plots of ground fastidiously arranged, and highly cultivated, and 
beautiful villas and mansions m.ellowed by time, with now and 
then a church-spire, moss-grown, peeping above the surrounding 
trees, were well calculated to inspire the mind with delightful 
emotions. I must say that the associations the scenery called up 
were mixed with the romantic, and my mind naturally reverted to 
the sylvan scenes so often the staple of the poet's imagination. 

It is a common observation, that the track of a rail-road does not, 
m general, lay through the most interesting part of a country ; but 
the remark I imagine is more applicable to new countries like our 
own, than to those like France, in which nearly all the land is under 
a high state of cultivation. Travellers, too, differ in their admira- 
tion of the scenery in France, some extolling its beauties in broad 
terms, while others see in any part of the country little to be 
praised. Speaking for myself, from the few glimpses caught 
through the windows of my carriage, in a ride from Havre to 
Paris, and through a few other sections, less pleasing, I must ac- 
Ivnowledge its claims most decidedly to the beautiful, as it im- 
pressed my own mind. To be sure its beauty is of a specific kind, 
but none the less real, for all that. If it does not affect the mind in 
precisely the same manner as do the roughly embosomed lakes of 
Scotland, the precipitous and wild mountain-views, which ilank 
portions of the Rhine, or the more sublime and dizzy peaks of the 
grandly awful ridges of Switzerland, it must not, on that account, 
be considered destitute of the necessary elements agreeably to 
move and elevate the mind of the true lover of Nature. It has 
its phase of beauty, which, regarded from its legitimate point of 
view, possesses high capabilities. Its predominating characteris- 



80 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



tic, as it struck my mind, is that of placid loveliness, combined 
with the classic symmetry of the French character, heightened by 
the mellowing hand of time. 

"What constitutes a peculiar and pleasing feature in the land- 
scape is, that the land is not enclosed. With the exception of an 
occasional graceful lattice partition a few inches high, to mark the 
separation of the lots, there were neither hedges, fences, nor walls, 
to break the continuity of the scene, — but vast tracts were spread 
out in every direction. These were divided into plots and squares 
of various forms and sizes, by the varieties of cultivation. The 
M^hole resembled an extensive garden but lately escaped from the 
shears and roller, displaying a vast carpet of an irregular tessel- 
lated pattern, variegated by numberless hues of brown and green. 
Occasionally, vast forests meet the eye, filled with trees of venera- 
ble age, and mathematically arranged. They were the royal 
demesnes, and hunting-grounds and parks connected with the 
country palaces of the kings, or, perhaps, the chateaux of the 
ancient nobility. Rarely is a habitation seen, except an occasional 
chateau, — the farmers residing in the compact villages, whence 
they issue every morning to go miles, perhaps, to their daily toil. 
The roads, which cross these lonely scenes, smiling with the ap- 
pearance of fertility, are broad and straight avenues, bounded by 
majestic trees, between which, may be seen both before and behind, 
an interminable vista. 

At one of the way-stations, we received a small accession to our 
party. It was two neatly dressed and agreeable young women, 
in style belonging to the better class of French peasantry. At 
once, and without ceremony, they entered into lively and quite 
intelligent conversation with any one in the carriage who chose to 
reciprocate their social favors. Yet there was nothing in their 
manner that could displease in the slightest, even the most fastid- 



XOEMAXDY. 81 



ious taste. Althougli evidently belonging to the liumbler class in 
society, yet there was a natural grace, and even dehcacy, in their 
address and manners, so inimitable, as to make you forget what 
you might have learned simply of the etiquette of politeness. In 
a few moments one of them evinced symptoms of illness, where- 
upon the other requested that the gentleman, by me, would have 
the goodness to seat himself near and opposite the swooning wo- 
man to hold in his, her convulsed hand. The fit lasted a few 
minutes, when, coming out of it, she engaged in promiscuous con- 
versation, as if nothing had happened, appearing as animated as 
before, abatmg an unpleasant dullness of the eye. This, I thought, 
was treating the ills of life as trifles, indeed. 

The historical associations which crowd upon one in passing 
through jSTormandy, lend a thrilling interest to its scenery. Every 
height has its legend and story. The Romans, to whom it was 
known before the time of Julius Cesar, and by whom it was after- 
wards conquered, have left here the traces of their powerful do- 
main. In the fifth century it became the prey of the Germanic 
nations, who, pouring from their Scandinavian hive, Hke a relent- 
less torrent, tracked their course in blood through the fairest 
regions of Europe. This portion was especially subjected to the 
ravages of these maritime freebooters. In the indolent reign of 
Charles the Bald, who vainly relied on the efficacy of gold, rather 
than on that of the sword, to oppose their progress, erroneously 
believing that by gratifying avarice, he could purchase its absti- 
nence, these indomitable semi-barbarians penetrated into the very 
heart of the country. At length, in 912, the Norwegian Eollo, or 
Raoul, ascended the Seine, and obtained from Charles the Simple, 
cession of the whole of maritime Neustria and the hand of Gisla, 
his daughter, in marriage. Eollo subsequently received Christian 
baptism in the cathedral of Rouen, and became the first duke of 



82 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

Normandy. It was annexed to England wlien William, duke of 
Normandy, obtained the English throne, in 1066, and subsequently 
became the battle-ground of France and England. It is not sur- 
prising then, that the traveller goes through this beautiful part of 
France with a feeling of enthusiasm. 

At length the cars stopped ; and the bustling among the passen- 
gers told, plainly, that we had reached the ancient and curious 
city. The passage occupied two and a half hours, and the rate 
of travel averaged twenty-two miles to the hour, including several 
way-stoppages. As it was evening before we arrived, I missed the 
unique and pleasing views which break upon the eye of the trav- 
eller, as he enters this renowned place. On leaving the cars, I 
was at once surrounded by porters, soliciting my baggage to take 
to any hotel I might name. One, a lad, followed me some dis- 
tance, and entreated with so much persistence that I finally yielded 
my valise, more as a reward to his perseverance than from any 
need I actually felt for his services. After threading our way 
some distance through the narrow, crooked, and imperfectly lighted 
streets, we entered a broad square, then passed through a gate- 
way in a high stone wall, crossed a narrow court, which brought 
us to the hotel du Havre, Place du Marche, Neuf. No. 21. The 
landlord, a large man of lofty but courteous bearing, received us 
with apparent pleasure. "With a single word, uttered in an under 
tone, he dismissed the porter, which I endorsed, by handing him 
ten sous for his service to me. I was at once shown the different 
rooms in the house, not occupied, — the landlady, a most voluble 
and amiable soul, and so insignificant in appearance as to be taken 
sooner for one of the domestics of the establishment than for the 
lady of the hotel, leading the way and only stopping to exhibit the 
distinctive claims of the several apartments, which she did with 
all the mgenuity peculiar to a French woman. Indeed, in each 



AGREEABLE LANDLOED AND LADY. 8^ 

room that we entered, she favored me with a brief dissertation 
of its merits, but in so measured terms as to convey the idea of its 
being a recitation, rather than an original essay. I engaged an 
unpretending room at thirty sous per day, without fire or attend- 
ance. The meal I had ordered, consisting of tea, bread and but- 
ter, and omelet, was now ready. It proved most excellent in 
quality and preparation, and I despatched it with a zest sharpened 
by the fatigues of the day. The remainder of the evening was 
spent by me most agreeably, in the society of the gracious land- 
lord, and his sweet-toned, chatting wife, who, with the greatest 
good-nature and kindness imaginable, opened to me their private 
boudoir, and gratified my eager curiosity in recounting startling 
events preserved in the legendary amials of that portion of the 
country. He, swelling with ancestral pride, related many a daring 
deed of some chivalrous Norman knight ; while she, more super- 
stitious, dwelt upon some strange and blood-curdling event, wrested 
from the mysteries of the dark age of the past. They also gave 
me a verbal sketch of the noted objects and places, in the city and 
its environs, worthy of a special visit, — thus condescending to be- 
come for me a very agreeable and convenient guide-book. Their 
thrilling and captivating narrations so haunted my imagination 
during the night, that I turned ever and anon on my pillow, await- 
ing, with impatient desire, the first glimmering of the dawn that 
was to reveal to view so many venerable relics of a wild and 
heroic age. Even before daylight, my ears were saluted by the 
clattering of w^ooden shoes over the rough pavement under the 
window of my room, and the confused commingling of garrulous 
and shrill tones of the human voice ; and the first view that my 
eye embraced was the square, filled with market-women, in their 
picturesque costumes, each at her stall in the open air, supplying the 
thronged customers with the essential elements of the day's dinner. 



q4 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



There are many memorials of antiquity in Rouen, all of deep 
interest to the intelhgent traveller ; but among them, the Cathe- 
dral stands preeminent. This celebrated edijQce is, by general ad- 
mission, one of the noblest religious structures in France, or even 
in Europe. Of the wonderful architecture of the vast pile, I 
«hall hardly attempt a description ; for, although some idea may 
be formed of its magnificent proportions, by a verbal account, yet 
the grandeur and awe with which it strikes the mind of the be- 
holder, can never be conveyed by words. 

We stand before the immense mass ! The mind at first is al- 
most overwhelmed with its vastness, its grandeur, its inexplicable 
power. The breadth is one hundred and three feet, while its 
length is no less than four hundred and thirty-four feet. Its elab- 
orate and richly-ornamented front, has three fine portals, over the 
central of which is a square tower, and a beautiful spire of iron- 
work, reaching to the dizzy height of four hundred and sixty-four 
feet eight inches, only thirty-eight feet less than that of the pyra- 
mid of Cheops. This is flanked by two lofty but dissimilar tow- 
ers. One of these towers, being older even than the remainder 
of the building itself, is in a simple and unadorned style ; but the 
other, built at the end of the fifteenth century, is justly admired 
for the beauty of its architecture. As you gaze upon the compH- 
cated pile, amid the mazes of its inextricable details, your eye is 
lost among niches, corners, points, and pinnacles, ornamented with 
images of apostles, saints, or, more frequently than either, of the 
Virgin and Child. These, however, are no unmeaning ornaments, 
but they served as a volume of religious history, conveying to the 
unlettered masses, real facts of Scripture history, and fixed them 
in the minds of the people with a vividness and reality that could 
not have been secm-ed so well in any other way. 

We wiU enter the gloomy Gothic structure. Our sensations ad- 



CATHEDRAL AT ROUEN. 85 



mil if no description. It is not tlie religious sentiment whicli 
seizes the mind, only so far as that feehng is always inspired by 
the works of genius ; but an indefinite and almost supernatural 
awe. The vast space, the silence that reigns within, the grandness 
of the architecture, the solemnity of the monuments, the impres- 
sive power of the pictures, and the effect of all these objects im- 
mensely heightened by the light which comes streaming in from 
one hundred and thirty windows, the glass being stained with every 
shade of color, from fiery red to the soft tints fading into white, 
until nave, and choir, and aisles, seem magically illuminated; 
while they elevate the soul, — fill it with vague and profound im- 
pressions. Indeed, you leave the church, for the first time, with 
an oppressive feeling. The idea was too vast and complex to be 
received into the mind at once. "We reach the sublime but by 
degrees ; and it is only after a number of visits, and indefatigable 
studies, that the soul is expanded to anything like a just compre- 
hension of the vast and magnificent proportions of the wonderful 
edifice. Its contemplation awakens a new sphere of ideas. Its 
immenss vaults within, enlarge the thoughts of man, — while the 
subHme works of genius around, lend to it a spiritual glow and fer- 
vency, — and the summit, losing itself in the air, seems to bear 
the brigkt image of the soul direct to heaven. 

The iii.erior is truly rich in monuments, although many of these 
sombre relics have been much mutilated by the numerous rehgious 
and revolutionary wars which have from time to time distracted 
the country. You see there the tomb of Richard I. (Coeur de 
Lion), many dukes of Normandy, and seventeen archbishops of 
Rouen ; also, the fine mausoleum of the two cardmals d' Ambrose. 
There, too, lay the form of RoUo, stretched out on his magnificent 
tomb; and, as I gazed on the mouldering urn, containing the 
last ashes of the stern chieftain, I could not but recall many a 

8 



36 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

striking incident in liis life, indicative of his indomitable spirit. It 
was in this very church, if I remember rightly, that was per- 
formed the ceremony of the nuptials of RoUo with Gisla, the 
daughter of Charles the Simple. Here, too, took place the cere- 
mony of his profession of Christianity, and of feudal homage to 
the king. In regard to the renunciation of his own faith, in favor 
of that of the Christian religion, history informs us, that little dif- 
ficulty was made either by the rude warrior, or by his ignorant 
followers ; for the dark mythology of Scandinavia does not, on 
any occasion, appear to have entwined itself Vvith much strength 
around the affections of its votaries ; but when, upon formal inves- 
titure with the duchy, he was instructed by the attendant prelates 
to kiss the feet of his liege lord, the indignant spirit of the veteran 
revolted from so humiliatin-^ a testimony of subjection ; " Never, 
by God," exclaimed he, " will I bend my knees to, or kiss the feet 
of, a brother man ! " 

The church of St. Owen, is another of the interesting religious 
edifices of Kouen, and belonged to the oldest conventional estab- 
lishment in Normandy. It is situated in the Palais Royal, and 
occupies a larger extent of ground even than the Cathedral. It 
is a most admirable specimen of the pointed Gothic, — its fine oc- 
tagonal tower, rising from the centre of the building, is two hun- 
dred and fifty-five feet in height. There are several other churches 
in Rouen, well deserving of notice, and some of them of high 
antiquity. 

The Town Hall, adjoining the Church of St. Owen, was origi- 
nally a portion of the conventional edifice. It is now appropri- 
ated to various public ofiices, and contains the museum and public 
library. In the latter, which consists of 80,000 volumes, and 
about 12,000 manuscripts, I was shown several objects, which, 
from the associations connected with them, possessed peculiar in- 



STATUE OF VOLTAIRE. 37 



teresT to me. Preserved in a neat mahogany case, are the keys 
of the city which had been presented to Napoleon. This is only 
one of the numerous evidences which the traveller is constantly 
meeting with in France, of the almost perfect adoration in which 
the great captain is held by the entire nation. 

Several of the manuscripts are very old, and are musty with 
the damp of years. I was shown more than one, said to have been 
from Voltaire, one of the master spirits of modern literature. As 
I turned over the leaves, I could hardly realize that the lines be- 
fore me were traced by the pen of a genius so powerful as to have 
moved to its centre the entire world of thought and opinion. A 
little further on, is a bronze statue of Voltaire. I was told that it 
was an uncommonly faithful likeness. I must confess that, at the 
first glance, I was filled with disappointment and chagrin. It was 
some time before I could reconcile the apparently insignificant fig- 
ure before me, with the splendidly grand beau ideal image which 
my imagination had pictured to my conception. A few moments' 
refiection, however, and a more careful study of the face, rectified 
measurably my first illusion. The countenance was remarkably ex- 
pressive, — and, in the angulation of the muscles, bore indisputable 
marks of that steadiness and intenseness of thought, which is a 
condition of clearness of conception and acuteness of discrimi- 
nation, qualities rare, of great excellence, and withal so prominent 
in the style of the eminent writer. He was sitting in an armed 
chair, the body slightly inclined forward, in an easy position, and 
the hands holding firmly the sides. The impression which I car- 
ried away, was not altogether pleasing, though it was distinct and 
profound ; and has haunted my imagination at times ever since. 
The statue was rather below the medium height, I should judge ; 
the body lean even to gauntness, while the sharp, prominent 
features, skinny hands, impending eye-brows, and deep, hollow 



38 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



eye-sockets, gave a cadaverous aspect almost sliuddering to tlie 
feelings. There was, besides, a mysterious air enveloping the 
vrhole face, impossible to be satisfactorily revealed. But the most 
distinct feature in the character of the remarkable physiognomy, 
was a certain facetious, exulting expression, such as I have not 
elsewhere seen, and resembling what we may well suppose to have 
been the look of his Satanic majesty, when contemjDlating the suc- 
cessful consummation of his foul plot, hopelessly to ruin our first 
parents, and through them the whole human race. Had Voltaire 
produced but one work, and that the one he entitled Candide, 
there would have been an exact resemblance between his expressed 
thoughts, and the most marked point in his expressive face. 

A few other objects of note shown me, were, a miniature church, 
very elaborate and curious in workmanship ; a bronze statue of 
the Chinese emperor, surrounded with his mandarins, in very nat- 
ural attitude ; and one of Xapoleon's eagles, bearing this inscrip- 
tion : Force a la hi, et Jidelite a Vempereui\ which may be ren- 
dered, strength to the law, and fxdehty to the emperor. The 
museum has been open to the public, since the fourth of July, 
1809. The pictures number three hundred, and many of them 
are very striking. I noted, among others, A Descent from the 
Cross, A Scene of Carnage hetiveen the Romans and Jews, Por- 
traits of the Sacred W^riters, A Fishing Smack, Christ and the 
Woman at the Well, The Death of Ahel, and a pilgrim in a state 
of religious ecstasy. There was also a most exquisitely beautiful 
statue of a Madeline, in marble. From the hbrary, I went to the 
Palais de Justice, This magnificent Gothic palace was built for 
the parliament of Xormandy, at the end of the fifteenth century. 
La Salle de Procureurs, or Hall of Attornies, is a noble saloon, 
whose dimensions and proportions are striking beyond anything I 
had before seen, or have witnessed since. It is seventy feet from 



JOAN OF ARC. 89 



the pavement, and is unsupported by a single column. The acute 
arched ceiling springs over your head, like the expanse of the sky. 
In crossing the square of La Pucelle, I stopped a moment to 
regard an indifferent statue of the famous Joan d'Arc, or Maid of 
Orleans, erected on the spot where that remarkable heroine suf- 
fered martyrdom in 1431. There is little in the statue to admu-e 
as a work of art ; but the feehngs it awakens, and the reflections 
it gives rise to, are sufliciently absorbing, to arrest the step of the 
historic traveller. This remarkable woman was born of obscure 
parentage, and spent the early portion of her life in servmg in a 
menial capacity, deprived of the advantages of education, and 
those favorable circumstances which are deemed essential to confer 
distinction or eminence. But these obstacles did not hinder her 
from rising to a sphere of influence, hardly equalled in the annals 
of history, and of handing down her name encircled with a halo 
of light, to future time. Possessing genius of a high order, her 
soul panted for something above the lot Providence had assigned 
her ; and her great benevolence naturally led her to look for some 
way in which she could be useful to her people. This soon ap- 
jDcared. France had been invaded by the English, and the affairs 
of the French king had become reduced to the greatest extremity. 
To rid the country of the hated English, would confer the greatest 
of blessings on her nation, and render her name illustrious in all 
forthcoming time. Possessing a powerful imagination, united 
with deep religious fervor, mixed with the superstition of the 
times, she revolved upon the thought, until she imagined seeing 
in a vision, St. Michel, the tutelary Saint of France, Avho ordered 
her to raise the siege of Orleans, which the English were then 
besieging, and to preside at the coronation of Charles VII, at 
Rheims. Placing herself at the head of the French army, she 
mfused so much ardor and enthusiasm into the French soldiers, 

8* 



90 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



that tlie English were defeated, the siege raised, and the Fr -nch 
king crowned, just as foretold. She was, however, subsequently 
wounded at the siege of Paris, and taken prisoner at Compiegne. 
Instead of treating her honorably as a captive, the English fixed 
an indelible stigma upon their character, by treating her harshly, 
and causing her to be burnt at the stake. Her simple manners, 
purity of sentiment, and the courage and intrepidity Avith which 
she walked to the fatal stake, have rendered her name a favorite 
in the galaxy of female stars of the first magnitude. But while 
the French regard her as the saint of France, the English, in the 
spirit of their deep-rooted animosity to the French nation, have 
characterized her as a sorceress, a giglot wench. Even the genius 
of Shakspeare forsakes him on this occasion, when he represents 
her in an odious light, entirely disj^roved by history. 

The Cote de St. Catherine is a steep declivity of considerable el- 
evation, overlooking the city on the east. I reached the summit 
by a circuitous route, after no little toil over the steep road rendered 
slippery by the recent rains. But on reaching the height, I was 
amply repaid for all my fatigue, by the fine view spread out before 
me. The city, comprising 100,000 inhabitants, with its angular 
and dingy roofs, and its numerous lofty spires and towers, piercing 
the murky cloud that partially enveloped it, lay below me. The 
verdant and delightful country by which it is surrounded, adds to 
the pleasing aspect. The Seine, by which it communicates with 
the Capital on the one hand, and with the flourishing seaport of 
Havre on the other, is here crossed by a bridge of boats and one 
of stone, and divides it from its large suburb of St. Sevier. The 
boulevards which are planted with trees like those of Paris, and the 
fine broad quays and cours, which extend along the banks of the 
river, are in striking contrast with the narrow, crooked streets of 
the old city. 



ROUEN. 91 



As I stood gazing on the scene before me, I could not help fall- 
ing into a musing mood. The wave of history was rolled back, and 
the mind, quickened by the influence of local association, and sped 
on by the power of memory, ran rapidly through the events of the 
past, vividly picturing to the mental eye, the renowned exploits of a 
chivalrous age. I could almost fancy to see drawn out in martial 
array before me, on some plain, those stern Norman knights, who 
were the terror even of the kings of France, heavily mounted on 
war chargers, and clad in steel armour ; and either meditating some 
expedition of blood, or recreating in the desperate feats of chivalry 
for the amusement of the softer sex. The Normans are proud of 
their descent, and are ever recounting some striking feat of their 
ancestors ; and well they may pride themselves on tracing their or- 
igin to those powerful barons who waged war successfully vdth. 
France, and held even England in subjection, for so many centu- 
ries. 

I reached the foot of the hill on the west side, opposite to where 
I made the ascent, with quite as much difficulty, sometimes sliding, 
at others, involuntarily running, — and often apprehensive of losing 
my equilibrium, so steep was the descent, and slippery and difficult 
the way. 

Eeturning to my hotel through the most ancient part of the 
city, afforded an interesting view of what renders Rouen a most 
delightful resort to the lovers of the antique and curious. The 
streets were narrow, crooked, and without side-walks ; the pave- 
ment of square stones declining to the middle of the street, from 
the houses, on either side. Of the quaint old houses which lined 
the sides of the streets, an American reader can hardly form a 
conception. Their strong oaken frames are filled in with cemeni 
or brick ; their narrow fronts, and high-peaked roofs, covered with 
slates or tiles, while many of their angles so jut over the street as 



92 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



to obscure the sun's rays except at noon-day. Scarcely any two 
houses are ahke, and as for blocks of houses, such as we see in our 
cities, there is no such thing to be found. The garniture of the 
shops, and the costume and manners of the j)eople who reside in 
this quarter, are quite in keeping with the odduess of other gen- 
eral features, and render the whole a rare picture by itself. In- 
deed, you would almost fancy that the entire quarter had been 
recently dug up, as some ancient Herculaneum, where it had been 
smothering under the ashes of oblivion for ages. Most travellers 
go direct to Paris from England by another way, and thus miss 
seeing, next to Paris, probably the most interesting city in France, 
if not in Europe. 

Outside of the boulevards, the appearance of the buildings is 
quite different. The streets are wider, straighter, and you often 
see handsome houses, built of the soft cream-colored stone, that 
abounds everywhere in France. The old and new quarters pre- 
sent a heightened contrast, for which you are indebted to the in- 
crease of population and wealth of the place of late, owing to the 
concentration of trade at Havre, the introduction of steamboats 
upon tliC Seine, and the fine rail-road which has recently been 
completed, connecting Paris, Rouen and Havre, as commercial 
cities. 

Dined at 5 p. m., the usual hour in France, at the Table d'hote, 
— the landlord doing the honors of the table in a dignified 
and affable manner. The course was frugal, consisting only of 
soup, fish, and three kinds of meat, with dessert. The dishes w^ere, 
however, exceedingly nice, and the whole greatly enlivened by 
the grace, vivacity, and intelligent conversation of a small number 
of French gentlemen, who formed part of the company. They 
at once drew me out in conversation, interested themselves in the 
object of my tour, — taking much pains to give me all the in- 



IMPOSING APPEARANCE OF EOUEN. 93 



formation in tlieir power tliat could be of possible service to me. 
They even praised my French. This, however, I took as an act 
of excessive politeness on their part. I may be allowed to remark, 
however, that the French never laugh at your mistakes, unless, 
indeed, they are, what needs sometimes happen, uncontrollably 
droll. They rather assure you, anticipate your meaning, and, in a 
most delicate manner, set you right. In this respect, at least, we 
may take, with advantage, a lesson from this people. One of the 
gentlemen had an uncle in New York ; the landlord had been in 
England, and spoke English ; another gentleman intended soon to 
travel in America, — so that these circumstances brought out, only 
increased the interest of conversation, bound us closer in the bonds 
of social friendship, and it was only till after a late hour that we 
parted, after exchanging cards. 

Rouen has an imposing external appearance. It is oval, or 
rather lozenge-shaped, and was, for a long time, strongly fortified ; 
but its ramparts are now demolished, and their place occupied by 
a series of boulevards. The squares, or open spaces, are shabby 
and irregular, and, except the Place Royale, near the centre of the 
city, are all insignificant in size. Some, however, are ornamented 
with public fountains, of which the city is well supplied. The 
Fontaine de Sisieux is a curious piece of antique sculpture, re- 
presenting mount Parnassus, with figures of Apollo, Pegassus, etc. 

Rouen is an opulent city, and is so eminent for its cotton man- 
ufactures, that it has gained the title of the French Manchester. 
Formerly, the spinning and weaving were both done by hand ; but 
now, both water and steam-power are largely used. It is stated 
by Yillerme, that in 1840 there were fifty thousand persons, men, 
women and children, or about half the entire population of the citji 
and suburbs, engaged in the cotton manufacture. 

There are numerous institutions of interest in the venerable 



94 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



city ; among others, may be mentioned the Royal, and University 
Academies, a royal College, Bible Society, Schools of Design, and 
Navigation, and various charitable institutions. But Rouen is 
particularly interesting to the student, as having given birth to 
some of the most illustrious individuals of whom France has to 
boast, among whom may be named Pierre Corneille, deservedly 
surnamed Grand, one of the greatest modern dramatists ; also, 
his brother, Thomas Corneille ; Fontenelle, the academician ; Bo- 
chart, the famous Oriental scholar ; Daniel, the historian ; Brumoi, 
and others. 



CHAPTEE X. 

ANNOYING TRAIT OF FRENCH LANDLORDS — COMPARATIVE EX- 
CELLENCE OF RAILWAYS IN FRANCE EMOTIONS ON ARRIVAL 

IN PARIS — HOTEL DU HAVRE, A SCENE WITH THE LANDLADY 
KINDNESS OF MADAM DAVID. 

Jan. ^ih. Took the morning train for Paris. My bill at the 
hotel, where I had stopped in Rouen, considerably exceeded my 
expectations, by which I understood some of the especial polite- 
ness shown me by the affable landlord and his amiable wife was 
not for nothing. As I had made a particular bargain in regard 
to terms, before engaging rooms, I demurred a little at his charges, 
— whereupon he condescended to inform me of the usage at first- 
class hotels, of adding a franc per day for extras, whether the 
traveller received them or not ; and it was expected, farther, that 
the travelling gentleman would hand over something besides for 
the service cf domestics, etc. I convinced him, in a word, that I 
was not altogether uninformed in the premises, when he at once 
rescinded the charge for extras, remarking simply that I might 
give at pleasure. 

This practice of taking the advantage of the ignorance or good 
nature of foreigners, who are travelling in France, is common, if 
not universal. And I am not sure that it is peculiar to France, 
but that it prevails on the continent. It is needless to add, that 
this petty swindling is sufficiently annoying, especially to an 
American, who, though not entirely unacquainted with a species 



96 CHESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

of over-reaching in business, has no experience corresponding to 
this. In the United States, one never feels the least necessity for 
entering into stipulations beforehand, for a night's lodging, or day 
or two's board at a public hotel, to prevent paying double the or- 
dinary charge. But quite different is it in Europe, where, in fault 
of a previous understanding as to price, you will pay for the ne- 
glect. In other respects I found the French landlords and 
ladies to merit high commendation, — polite, accommodating, and 
strictly honest. This alone seems a defect in their admirable 
manner toward travellers. Like unamiable national traits often 
met with elsewhere, it has the strength of long usage to plead 
its innocence. Surprising it is to a stranger, how such per- 
verse dealing could ever become so ingrained with the public, as 
to render the national conscience blind to the fault. It adds an 
item to the chapter of human inconsistency. 

I found the general reception-room, at the depot, spacious and 
even elegant. After delivering my luggage, buying a ticket, etc., 
I passed into a neat and well-furnished parlor, having besides, the 
very convenient appendages of water-closet, and recesses for ar- 
ranging toilet. The cars were soon by the door, and we issued for 
seats, leaving our tickets as we passed out. Each took the coach 
he fancied, and there was a slight bustle for choice. In a moment 
the city, with its lofty spires, was receding in the distance, and we 
were wending our way, with the speed of an arrow, toward the 
queen-city. I must confess that my feelings were elate at the 
thought of so soon realizing the splendid dream of my youth. On 
we bounded, through hill and dale, over river, under massive 
arched tunnels, — some of them of great length. The French 
railways have the appearance of being thoroughly construct- 
ed, — the motion is even, and the carriages easy and com- 
fortable. The interior of the carriages of the second grade are 



RAILWAYS IN FRANCE. 97 



lined witli white linen, and side-lamps are kept burning to abats 
the gloom tbat would otherwise seize upon passengers, w hile pass- 
ing under the long tunnels, of wliicli there are several upon this 
route. The road crosses the Seine no less than six times ; and 
this, together with the many deep cuts, the expensive depots, and 
way-stations, and the superior appointments in respect to officers, 
must needs render the road an expensive one. Its great cost will 
be more apparent, when we consider that it runs through the 
heart of Normandy, cutting into valuable parks, gardens, and 
sometimes, passing near villages, and even through them. The 
travel on the road, judging by the number with us, and the mod- 
erate rates of charge, would seem hardly to warrant the opinion 
that the stock is remunerative to its holders, though it must be 
taken into the account that labor is cheaper, and per-cent. interest 
less in France than in the United States. But the road is of 
grand importance to the commercial interest of the three promi- 
nent cities of which it forms the connecting chain, — and its stock 
must continue to enhance in value upon a most durable basis. I 
noticed one feature in the appointment of the road which I have 
not observed elsewhere, and which, it seems to me, is worthy of 
mention. Men were stationed at distances along the road, and as 
it grew dark I noticed that they held lanterns. I was told that it 
was their duty to hold themselves in readmess to render aid or 
succor in case of accident while the cars were traversing the road, 
as well as to keep the track clear of encumbrances of every kind 
whatever, whether made by the carelessness of others, or by 
malicious-minded persons. And when it is considered how often 
accidents upon railroads happen in our own country, — for instance, 
sometimes arising from obstructions upon the track, resulting even 
in great loss of life, this feature would seem imperiously to re- 
commend itself for adoption to all managers of railroads who 
9 



98 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



have it not already, and who feel a deep and lively sense of the 
important trust of human life committed to their hands. 

On the whole, I received a favorable impression of their man- 
agement of railroads, in France. Their construction is, doubtless, 
much after the EngHsh mode of building, — the English having 
been, till very recently, principally employed as engineers, and 
even workmen ; but both the construction in the more solid and 
lighter parts, and the management, are considerably modified by 
the French genius, and accordingly partake much of the grace 
and luxury of the national character. 

The cars stopped within the rich iron ballustrades of the station 
at Paris ; and in a moment, we were all in the spacious room of 
the octroi, awaiting the inspection by the officers, of our luggage. 
This, however, causes but slight delay, especially if you submit to 
the form required by law with polite acquiescence, and there are 
no circumstances to render you a suspected person. On my whole 
tour, I was never detained more than a moment from this cause, 
— the officer merely unlocking the valise, and casting a glance, 
for form's sake. All, however, do not escape so lightly. The 
quick and experienced eye of the officers easily distinguish the 
class of travellers who would be likely to need watching ; and, 
accordingly, some are subjected to a most thorough, and often ex- 
ceedingly mortifying search. I more than once witnessed, with 
feelings akin to commiseration, the cumbersome packages of 
women of the lower class, undergoing a most tumultuous exami- 
nation, — the different parcels tumbled about, as if the officers 
were quite indifferent as to the feehngs of the owner, and regard- 
less of her right of property. And I may observe, that while the 
French government officers are almost invariably polite to the 
last degree, to those termed gentlemen and lady passengers, they 
may often be seen treating females of the lower classes, in their 



AEEIVAL AT PAEIS. 99 



official duties, as If not particularly inspired with a true and deli- 
cate regard for the sex. 

The examination over, I was soon in the city, strolling leisurely 
a-foot, the better to enjoy undistracted, the profound yet delightful 
sensations of being really in Paris, so long a bright Image of my 
imagination. "What indescribable emotions I felt, as I joined the 
sweeping throng in the Immense and densely-populated capital ! 
What wonders of art were soon to break upon my enraptured 
gaze ! .Everything around evinced a marked superiority in exact 
accordance with the unrivalled reputation of the place. The 
streets were wider and cleaner, the edifices loftier, and more grand 
and beautiful, than is met with in the provincial towns. Even the 
persons in the streets. In their costume, gait, and general air, par- 
took of the pervading character, exhibiting a polish of manner, 
and an easy and elevated style of movement, not elsewhere to be 
seen. 

A few rods from the depot, I came to the Hotel du Havre. As 
I entered, a neatly dressed and agreeably-mannered female do- 
mestic accosted me In bland and insinuating tones, then seized my 
portmanteau, and led the way up a broad stairway of marble, and, 
in the most pleasing manner Imaginable, showed me the several 
unoccupied rooms of the hotel. With a delicacy of politeness 
peculiar to the French, she did not assign me a rank of style 
which, was natural, by the humble manner that I entered the 
house, by showing me only the less expensive rooms, but took me 
at first Into the grand apartments. Some of them were indeed 
magnificent enough to satisfy a fastidious taste. Their wide di- 
mensions disclosed a gorgeous array of Brussels carpetings, sump- 
tuous ottomans, and sofas richly carved, and gilded celhng, and 
magnificently rich damask and silk hangings. I made choice of 
a humble and cozy room — a niche merely, compared to some of 



100 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

the apartments — for tlilrty francs per month, with light, fuel, and 
attendance extra. I was to take it for a month, provided I found 
the situation of the hotel in a favorable part of the city for my 
studies. After purchasing a guide-book for three and a half francs, 
which the concierge of the house told me was at least twice as 
much as it was worth, I spent the remainder of the evening in its 
perusal. 

The morning broke upon my expectant thoughts, with inspiring 
effect. My first thoughts were turned, of course, towards the post- 
office, where, I fondly anticipated, w^ere awaiting me letters from 
home. By consulting duly the intelligible plan of Paris, which I 
had purchased and examined carefully the evening before, I found 
the place readily, and without mquiring even for once. But, 
how bitter the disappointment ! 

I now perceived that my lodgings were in an unfavorable part 
of the city for my purpose, and that I should do well to remove 
my locale to the south of the Seine, in the students' quarter. Pas- 
sing from Rue J. J. Jacques, I entered the magnificent square of 
the Louvre, the sumptuous and varied architecture of which, 
nearly bewildered me with delight. In a moment, the grand and 
beautiful view along the quays of the Seine, was revealed. Pas- 
sing down Rue de Seine, I found a comfortable room, on moderate 
terms, at Madam David's, ISio. 57 bis. I was quite delighted at 
the appearance and manner of my new landlady. She was a fine 
sj^ecimen of the class termed grisettes, who combine an assembled 
charm,^s difficult to describe, as it would be to paint the hues of 
the rainbow. Her fascinating manners were the perfection of 
delicacy and grace. While contemplating her in animated con- 
versation with another, it was less difficult to imagine the wonder- 
ful spell of the famed Cleopatra. 

Arrangements completed with Madame D., I returned to Hotel 



SCENE WITH A LANDLADY. 101 

du Havre^ in order to remove to my new quarters. On rino-infy 
my bell, a maid appeared, and politely requested me to descend, 
and arrange my account with Madame of the hotel. I was ush- 
ered into a spacious and elegantly furnished room, on the story 
below. A lady of genteel figure and dress, was rechning upon a 
sofa. She immediately arose, and awaited my commands without 
speaking. She was tall, clad in full black, and bore a sedate and 
thoughtful expressaon. On asking for my bill, she promptly re- 
plied in a subdued tone, but with a business-like precision and air, 
that it would be sixteen and a-half francs. I observed, in reply, 
that Madame was doubtless unaware that I had occupied the room 
but one night. She immediately answered in a tone and manner 
of independence of feeling, shaded, indeed, by her inimitable 
grace of manner, that by a rule of the establishment, gentlemen, 
on securing a room for a month, and then leaving it after one or a 
few days, were expected to pay the hire of half a month. I re- 
marked again, that my engagement was conditional. She promptly 
showed me the book in which my name was registered, against 
the number of my room, for a month. I called her attention to 
the fact, that the writing was done by another person, and not by 
myself, and requested that she would call the concierge with whom 
I stipulated for the hire of the room, to verify the accuracy of my 
original statement. The woman appeared, and, amid some em- 
barrassment of manner, and the serpentine language of duplicity, 
gave evidence that she could not fully remember just how it was, 
but it was clearly her opinion, that Monsieur had engaged the 
room for one month, as she could never have made so egregious 
a mistake in registering his name ; whereupon, Madame turned 
toward me with a triumphant air, and perceiving my resolution 
unshaken, called a male concierge, and in an imperious tone, or- 
dered him to take possession of my luggage, until I should see fit 

9* 



X02 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

to come to terms. I thrust the fellow away, who was making a 
little too free with me, and walkmg up to Madame, tendered her 
five francs for my lodgmg, — distinctly intimating to her, that on 
receiving further indignity in her house, I would call in a police 
officer. This had the desked effect. She promptly handed me 
my passport, took the piece of money, and allowed me to depart, 
graciously bidding me adieu, as if nothing had happened. The 
record of the incident may be serviceable to other travellers. 

In respect to the passport mentioned in the above paragraph, it 
may be well to add further, that on engaging rooms in an interior 
city or town, in France, you dehver your passport to the landlord 
of the house, who deposits it in a public office, where a transcript 
synopsis is taken of it, and the original returned to you. As this 
passport contains, besides a certificate of citizenship, some descrip- 
tion of your jperson, this arrangement is not only very convenient 
in enabhng a stranger to trace out the domicile of a friend oi 
countryman happening to be in the city at the same time, — which 
he can easily do, by applying to the proper authorities ; but it af 
fords ready means to the government of knowing always how 
many strangers are in the city, and furnishes efficient means of 
ferreting out the authors or perpetrators of crime. It is a little 
annoying to travellers ; but there is no doubt that it contributes 
essentially to the order and tranquilHty of European society. 

On arriving at the hotel, I found my room in a pleasant state 
of readiness, with a glowing coal fire in the grate to cheer me, 
while Madame David with her amenities of manner, contributed 
to the hospitable feeling of home. 



CHAPTER XI. 

6H0PPIXG IN PAEIS — FASCIXATIXG MANNERS OF THE SHOP- 
WOME^r — BEAUTIFUL APPEAEA^^CE OF THE STREETS FASH- 
IONS DIFFERENT IN PARIS, LONDON, AND NEW YORK — 
NAPOLEON COLUMN — GARDEN OF THE TUILLIERIES — LIBRARY 
OF ST. GENEVIEVE — THE IMPORTANCE OF SOME DEFINITE 
PLAN OF OBSERVATION. 

The first business on the morrow was, to reiDlenisli my ward- 
robe, now the worse for the journey thither. Madame was pleased 
to offer me cards of address to clothing stores, with useful advice 
in regard to purchasing to advantage ; but although I felt obliged 
to her for the favor, I waived it, preferring to trust to chance for 
any good fortune I might meet with in the line of purchase. I 
purposely spent the entire day in selecting the required habili- 
ments, in order to get a clearer view of the features of Parisian 
shopping. The keepers were all extremely civil and obliging, 
ever betraying a delicate charm of manner perfectly delightful. 
As you enter the store, you gracefully raise the hat, and salute 
the lady or gentleman within, which is returned in a polite, but 
not obsequious manner. The goods are shown you without stint or 
reserve, but you are not directly urged to purchase, — although 
the qualities of the articles, their newness, fitness, and such likd 
other points, become very naturally the theme of an easy conver 
sation, in which not rarely a suggestion is elicited that is fully cal- 
culated gently to draw you in for the purchase. The whole thing 



104 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

is managed with infinite tact. You feel yourself perfectly at lib- 
erty to leave without buying, and yet you are conscious of touch- 
ing a golden woof whose delicate threads draw you to the interests 
of the seller. You are not held fast by the powers of persuasion, 
nor are you made to feel, that failing to purchase, you would vio 
late any rule of propriety ; and yet an eloquent tongue within, 
pleads for the claims of so much politeness. These remarks ap- 
ply without abatement in their force, to the Paris shopkeepers in 
general ; but they have a special application to the fair sliopwomen, 
who, indeed, form the larger part in the trade. "Whether these 
are selected for their greater personal attractions and superiority 
of address, I cannot say ; but certain it is, that they appear the 
more effulgent gems in that sparkling brilliant, Parisian woman. 
It would be diflB.cult, I fancy, for an American to enter a shop kept 
by one of these latter, and engage in a purchase, without feeling 
at once his purse-strings loose, under the force of her inimitable 
charms of manner. Her perfect neatness of person, the exquisite 
mode and taste of her entire dress, the blandness and grace of her 
manner, prepossess you at once ; but when her liquid, silvery 
tones, modulated in soft, graceful cadences, with an accent at once 
harmonious and inspiring, glide upon your ear, you are taken 
captive, and make your purchases, without a very clear perception 
of the relation of your finances to the absolute need you have of 
the articles you are purchasing. But what if the female in ques 
tion chance to be a fine specimen of one of those exquisites of 
the sex, termed grisettes ? In that case, you may as well remain 
at home, if you are fully determined on not purchasing ; for any 
attempt to control your will in the premises, would most certainly 
prove abortive. It were a futile effort to paint exactly this exotic 
species of woman in France. The most subtle genius might well 
despair of the attempt. To image forth a picture possessing truly 



PLEASI^^G MANXEES OF SHOP WOMEN. 105 

tte cognizable features of the original, would require more than 
the immortal pencil of a Eaphael, clipped in the subhmated hues 
of nature. Simplicity, apparent artlessness, grace, and a certain 
tenderness, heightened by a tone and accent sweet and hquid, are 
so happily blended, as to remind you of the facile harmony of the 
spheres, and of a freshness, to briag to mind the carolling of the 
matin songster, as he pours forth his mellow, gushing notes, on the 
dewy spray, while all nature breathes incense to the depth and 
melody of the artless song. 

The shops in Pai'is, as I have already said, are, in general, kept 
by females ; but I observed that the clotMng-stores, or those for 
male attire, were most commonly attended by gentlemen, or at 
least you are waited on by such, when making fits to your person. 
This struck me as being worthy of note, in a city where the strug- 
gle for pecuniary existence is so intense, as continually to thi-eaten 
to ingulf in the vortex of human strife all the jDrimary elements 
of innate propriety, — and where society is on so easy footing as 
to leave the utmost freedom to female demeanor. It only serves 
to add, however, further proof of the modesty of French women, 
of all classes, which, in their dress and manner, has been ad- 
miringly spoken of by travellers. 

On leaving, you politely bow to madame, bidding her a pleasant 
day, which she returns with perfect grace and good-nature, and 
this, too, on her part, whether you have purchased articles of 
her, or not. This admirable trait of the Parisian shopwomen 
is not a little remarkable. I camiot imagme that their imper- 
turbable blandness is always heartfelt, but it is ever, neverthe- 
less, pleasingly admirable, and it serves to show to what point 
the social elements of character may be disciplined. I must con- 
fess, that I rarely left a shop myself without buying something, 
however small the purchase ; but I often witnessed the French 



106 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAXMVOELD 

tliemselves, after occasioning a deal of lost time and inconvenience 
to madame in showing tliem the different articles in lier shop, 

iQr^xe receiving" the same sweet and courteous adieu from the 

woman, as if they had purchased half the goods m her shop. In- 
deed, I have one case m point, fresh in my mmd. While standmg 
one day at the counter of one of those little open shops, frequently 
to be met with m the cross-streets of the city, and arranging for a 
purchase, a gentleman stepped up, and as he seemed somewhat in 
haste, I made a movement aside, yieldmg him the exclusive atten- 
tion of the charmmg shopwoman. He was dressed superbly, and 
bore an air and style of manners that bespoke him one of the ex- 
quisites of the city. He handled over the different articles, find- 
ino- fault with every object he examined, — one being too small, 
another too large, this too .dear, that of inferior quality, — until 
the unwearied woman had shown him half the things in her store, 
which she did with the greatest readiness and patience, — when 
the rather pompous Parisian went away without deigning to leave 
a sino-le sou of his money with the woman, to console her for the 
infinite pains she had been put to. He had the courtesy, however, 
on jzoing away, to bestow a fine bow, and a most classically mould- 
ed valediction, while the woman returned an apparently cordial and 
graceful pleasant-day, her countenance and manner betraying not 
the shghtest indication of the chagrin, not to say smothered indig- 
nation, which she must have inwardly felt at such annoying 
treatment. 

The graceful attractions and winning manner of the Parisian 
shopkeepers, render shoppinff in Paris most delightful ; and the 
effect of such amenity of manners, must be favorable to the social 
character of the city. 

It is quite needless to add, that the various articles in the shops 
are arranged with infinite taste, and so presented as to show to the 



STYLE OF DRESS IN PARIS. 107 

Dest advantage ; for all this we should expect in a city iu which 
style is carried to so high a jDoint as in Paris ; — but in some of the 
streets, the shop-windows display a degree of luxury, costliness, 
and magnificence, scarcely to be conceived of by those v/ho have 
not looked in upon them; and the articles are exhibited in so sump- 
tuous and alluring a shape as quite to captivate the most fas- 
tidious taste. 

To a person possessing but a moderate degree of the sense of the 
beautiful in art, a stroll through some of the wide and clean streets 
of the city, with leisure to gaze in upon the magnificent array of 
costliness, could not but prove a luxury in its way. He would 
seem to realize the golden days of Persian splendor, and half 
fancy that the entire wealth and taste of the broad earth were 
concentrated within the limits of the queen-city. 

The quality of style in the dress of the Parisians is beyond 
praise. In combining grace, lightness, and warmth, their garments 
are unrivalled. To be sure, Paris sets the fashions for the world; 
and the various other great capitals are in the monthly, I might say, 
weekly receipt of the latest Parisian mode, which is obsequiously 
copied and immediately transmitted to the smaller cities, towns 
and villages throughout the length and breadth of the entire 
civilized world ; so that the grand city becomes the emporium of 
fashion for all civilized nations, — the fountain-head of the in- 
finity of the streams of fashion that extend through the varied 
fabric of universal society. Still, the Parisian mode is quite dif- 
ferent in London or New- York, from what it is in Paris itself. 
The reason for this is obvious. There is a philosophy about 
it. The genius of a nation may sometimes be seen even in what 
is commonly termed so trivial an affair as the cut of a coat. The 
form of a garment, aside from the standard mode, must be adapted 
to the style of the wearer, to have any pretensions to beauty. 



108 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

This principle is continually kept in view by the leading modists, 
who are not unfrequently persons of high intelligence and great 
purity of taste, in such matters. Thus a garment fashioned so a3 
to be in perfect harmony with the light, graceful, and facile 
Parisian, w^ould appear incongruously odd upon the person of an 
unwieldy and sturdy Londoner. Before being in keeping with 
the latter, it must undergo, so to speak, a process of naturalization. 
In a word, it must be Anglicised. Hence, you never see the true 
Parisian fashion out of the capital. It is an indigenous plant, and 
cannot be transplanted without losing some of the distinctive 
features of the original. 

Jan. 12th. I set off early in the morning with the view of calling 
upon the American minister, both to pay my respects to the hon- 
ored representative of our nation, in Paris, and to report myself 
as an American traveller, designing to tarry a few weeks in the 
city. Strangers, on their arrival, are expected thus to make them- 
selves known to the resident minister of their respective countries, 
and it may prove of advantage for them so to do. 

I took my directions from my guide-book. On my way thither, 
I passed the celebrated column of Napoleon, in the Place Vend- 
ome. From the summit of the grand pillar, a comprehensive 
panoramic view of the city and its environs may be had, and I 
could not resist the temptation to tarry here a moment, and gratify 
my intense curiosity to look down upon the world, in miniature, 
below. An old soldier, — in the wars of the Emperor, — gave 
me a lantern, and I ascended the column, by an interior winding 
staircase of one hundred and seventy-six steps. The view from 
the top is fine, although the monuments in the proximity are seen 
upon a line too horizontal to appear to the best advantage. As 
the eye sweeps the horizon, it embraces the numerous striking 
edifices, towers, and palaces, which adorn the capital, rising above 



COLUMN OF KAPOLEON. 109 



a confused ocean of roofs and houses of all forms and sizes, with 
all possible Tarieties of chimneys, pipes, and fines. In the dis- 
tance, the eye rests upon the village of Yincennes, with its 
chateau and forest ; and then, a little to the left, on a green- 
wooded hill, sloping towards the city, appear the tombs and monu- 
ments of Pere Lachaise, while to the north, you catch a view of 
the hills, which crowd npon the city in that direction. 

The reader may be more interested in learning the design of 
this splendid monument, and in attending to its description, though the 
account be meagre and imperfect. It was erected to commemorate the 
unparalleled victories of Napoleon, in the campaign of 1805, from 
the raising of the camp at Boulogne, to the battle of AusterHtz. 
Upon the capitol is inscribed, Monument erected to the Glory of the 
Grand Army, hy Napoleon the Great, — and his series of heroic 
feats is sculptured in two hundi'ed and seventy-six bass-rdiefs, 
of which the subjects are engraved underneath, upon the cordon, 
rising in a spiral direction to the summit of the column. The 
column itself is of the Tuscan order, copied from Trajan's pillar 
at Eome, but of larger dimensions. It has an elevation of one 
hundred and thirty-five feet, and is surmounted by a colossal 
bronze statue of the emperor. The figure rests in an easy pos- 
ture upon the right foot, with the left free, and a little advanced. 
The costume is his ordinary mihtary surtout and cocked hat. 
There is an air of dignity and decision in the attitude, and the 
countenance is steady and benignant, looking calmly down upon 
the capital, reminding you that Napoleon is still the master-spirit 
of France. The bass-reliefs, in bronze, with which it is covered, 
were made out of twelve hundred pieces of cannon taken from the 
Russians and Austrians ; and the ministers of these powerful na- 
tions, as they drive past in their splendid equipages, may well feel 
a momentary abasement, as they glance at the emblems which so 

10 



110 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

forcibly remind them of the disgrace of their arms and humiliation 
of their power, by a series of victories unparalleled in the history 
of the world. 

On reaching the place designated in my guide as the residence 
of the American minister, I made further inquiries, and following 
the directions given, entered the office of the English ambassador. 
I was there politely told that I should find the American minis- 
ter's hotel on the south side of the Seine, near my own quarters. 

On my way home, I passed through the garden of the Tmleries. 
It would require many pages to give a detailed description of this 
beautiful enclosure ; and then the picture thus made would be 
pale, indeed, compared with the original, — so entirely inadequate 
is language to convey any just notion to others of what corresponds 
to nothing in their experience with which to form a comparison. 
The garden is in the form of a parallelogram, and comprises an 
enclosed space of sixty-seven acres. It was projected by Louis 
IV, and laid out by the celebrated Le Notre, whose genius is 
strikingly displayed in the wonderful harmony with which he com- 
bined the varied elements and details of this delectable spot. The 
ground is laid out in broad and neat walks, and angular beds, of 
different size and pattern, variegated with trees, shrubbery and 
flowers of the choicest varieties. Beautiful circular basins, of dif- 
ferent sizes, are pleasingly interspersed. They are ornamented 
with elaborate fountains, from which leap forth the waters of the 
Seine, gleaming ever and anon in the soft sunshine, and then fall- 
ing in subdued spray upon the placid bosom of the water below. 
Fishes from China lazily part the limpid water beneath ; while 
upon its mirrored surface float, majestically, cygnets of the 
color of alabaster, and as tame as the visitors that view them. 
The whole space is profusely ornamented with antiques, statues, 
and vases, thus adding to the other delightful features of the place 



LIBEAEY OF ST. GENEVIEVE. m 



the very grateful and elevating cliarm of classical association. 
The whole space is completely filled ; every point being actually 
appropriated, — and yet amid the immense number and variety 
of objects almost crowding the entire enclosure, there is such 
a simplicity of arrangement, and symmetry of proportion, as to 
relieve all monotony. Every object is so precisely in its place, 
and such exquisite harmony pervades the entire effect, that the 
eye is entirely satisfied, and can desire nothing more beautiful, 
majestic, or perfect, either in the whole, or in any of its details. 
The garden is open to the public, and is the favorite resort of the 
Parisian, as well as of strangers. It adjoins the palace on the 
north, and must appear delightfully pleasing from the windows of 
the Chateau. Even the fastidious taste of royalty could but be 
gratified in embracmg its infinite beauties. 

Spent the evening most satisfactorily in the room of the vene- 
rable library of St. Genevieve. It is not so large as some other 
public libraries in Paris, containing only about one hundi-ed and 
ten thousand volumes, and two thousand manuscripts ; but on ac- 
count of its convenient proximity to the rooms in which are given 
the lectures comprising the public course, it is much frequented, 
especially by the students attending these lectures. The library 
is open, and entirely free to the public, on every day, I think, ex- 
cept Sunday, from ten to three during the day, and in the evening 
from six to ten. So great is the eagerness, by the habitual stu- 
dents to this library-resort, to improve to the utmost the golden 
moments, that there was usually a throng before the entrance, at 
least fifteen minutes before the time of opening the doors. To 
prevent annoyance, they were required to stand in file, in a nar- 
row passage formed by the wall of the building and a wooden 
railing. This, the French significantly term, making the queue. 
While waiting with half impatience, and an uneasiness of body 



112 CEESTS FEO^I THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

arising from the cold, an occasional pleasant jezi d' esprit would be let 
off by some mirthful fellow, in whom the mercury had fallen so low 
as to disengage a latent spark from his mental crucible. The vivid 
scintillation would be sure to ignite the closely-pressed train of 
embodied spiritualities, by the keenly susceptible force of sympa- 
thy, — when the vivid flashes of wit and humor, passing rapidly 
from one to another, acting with suffused glow of effect upon all 
mmds, would, for the moment at least, completely dissipate the 
tediousness of the delay. The French students are certainly 
pointedly and wittily keen. The ammonia of their volatile 
spirits falls with a peculiar pungency, when vehicled by their pre- 
cise, clear, and dulcet language. 

Students have a tendency to the witty. The drill and discipline 
they are undergoing, sharpen the mind, and impart to it a clearness 
and vividness for comparison, which render some little innocent 
indulgence in that way, almost indispensable. Thus, while stand- 
ing en queue, I was more than once irresistibly provoked to a 
laugh, by a sure-directed pun, perpetrated against some passer-by 
of the humbler sort. Occasionally there would be a retort so 
keen, as to show that in all such encounters, there are blows to 
receive, as well as blows to give. 

The door opens. Instantly the head of the column disappears i 
you find yourself in movement, and soon pass through the wide 
entrance leading into the library-room. As you pass the portly 
huissier, or door-keeper, who stands gaily decked with the insignia 
of his office, you bestow in turn your deferential salute, which 
he receives with the pompous dignity of a grand seigneur. The 
long hall comprising the interior of the library-room, has a table 
runnmg its entire length, around which the company hastily but 
noiselessly seat themselves. In a moment, all is profound silence, 
as if the mortal spirits present had been borne off by those of the 



LIBEAEY OF ST. GEXE^aEVE. II3 



departed dead, into realms of pure abstraction. The room is well 
lighted ; and, on the table before jou, which is covered with green 
baize, are writing materials amply provided for jour convenience. 
A number of librarians, whose business it is to keej) the immense 
number of volumes conveniently arranged, and to assist you to 
any book you may be pleased to call for, may be observed with a 
sedate and thoughtful air, gliding noiselessly around in the differ- 
ent parts of the room, pleasurably intent in their grateful duties. 
These gentlemen are always approachable, give you prompt and 
explicit attention, and in their whole intercourse with you, evince 
a classic ease of manner, and a polished tone of mental expres- 
sion, in pleasing harmony with the spiritual grandeur of the place. 
The collection in this library is so judiciously made, that you would 
rarely be disappointed in finding a book to aid you in the investi- 
gation of a particular theme, although there might be several 
other persons present, reading in different volumes upon the same 
subject. It was easy to observe that the entire company present 
were no listless readers, seeking to while away the time in mental 
relaxation. They appeared rather greedily to devour the rich 
and abounding mental feast before them, and to cling to the pass- 
ing moments, as if each came laden with the momentous interest 
of success in life's career. Many were law and medical students, 
who were reading in counection with the pubKc course of lectures 
they were attending, — and this previous investigation of the sub- 
ject, could not but prove an excellent preparation to appreciate 
more fully the lecture of the professor, — while the subject, clearly 
and fully illustrated in the lecture-room, through the inspiring 
tones of the living teacher, must needs awaken a strong and dur- 
able interest in the student, for thorough investigation on collateral 
subjects. Added to this, the wringmg examination at the close of 
the course, which decides whether the candidate is to receive the 

10* 



114 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

approbation of the University, and be sent out into tbe world with 
the commendatory honors of the highest authority in the world, 
or be rejected, to pass a life of private mortification, or to make a 
renewed struggle for the diploma, by a year or two of intense ap- 
plication, must lend additional motives for the highest effort in the 
power of man. 

At an early hour in the evening, a door leading to a room m 
the second story was thrown open, when there would be something 
of a rush to share the privilege of the books in the reserved de- 
partment ; but I did not learn the particular advantage of the ar- 
rangement. 

I spent much of my time, the first week in Paris, in this de- 
lightful place. The wilderness of engrossing objects which breaks 
upon the mind of the traveller, with almost bewildering effect, 
when he first takes up his abode in the magnificent city, makes 
some definite plan of observation absolutely indispensable, if he 
would use the time to the best advantage. I accordingly spent 
much of the first week in Paris in studying the plan of the city, 
in tracing its history, in making a mental survey of the various 
institutions and objects of prominent interest, and in settHng upoE 
a scheme for the examination of these, that would use the limited 
time of my stay to the best advantage. Nor was the week thus 
spent misappropriated. It rendered fruitful the remaining timf 
in a high degree, and had the effect to crowd hours into minutes, 
It is, perhaps, not too much to say, that if a stranger in Paris has 
but four weeks to tarry there, and would learn the most that it is 
possible to do in that time, that he might profitably spend the first 
week in reconnoitring the ground, and laying the plan of ar- 
rangement. 



, CHAPTER XII. 

LETTERS FROM HOME — THE EFFECT OF CONTEMPLATING 
ARIGHT NOBLE PUBLIC EDIFICES — BOARDING SCHOOL — PU- 
PILS OUT^ ON PROMENADE — ARC DE TRIOMPH DE l'eTOILE 

MINISTER OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION IN PARIS — CIMETIERE 

DU PERE LACHAISE, THE PARIS OF CEMETERIES — VICE REC- 
TOR AT THE SARBONNE — PANTHEON — DESCRIPTION. 

Jan. IQtk. It being the Sabbath, I cletermmed to spend a por- 
tion of the day in a stroll through parts of the city, to view some 
of the public edifices and works of art. Not finding it convenient 
to attend religious worship, this course for the employment of my 
time very naturally suggested itself, as being somewhat akin to 
the spirit of religious adoration, and by no means a very indiffer- 
ent substitute for ritual ceremonies. I felt, with how much truth 
I know not, that it would be no sacrilege of the day, leisurely to 
contemplate these subhme creations of man's genius, and yield to 
the elevation of thought and depth of sentiment which they are 
sure to inspire. From such high thoughts, it was natural to turn 
to loftier, and to be solemnly impressed with the Infinite Power 
that could thus breathe into humble mortals conceptions so grand, 
and powers of execution so wonderful, as these monuments imply. 
My first course was to the post-office, where, with a longing 
heart, I hoped to find letters from home. Intelligence from absent 
friends, and dear ones, is among the sweetest joys of life. But 
when the endeared notes are conveyed in the tender missive. 



116 CEESTS FROM THE 0CEAJ5- WORLD. 

freshly breathing the holy incense of the heart's purest affection, 
the joy is greatly heightened. Nor is the delight less, when the 
happy recipient is a traveller, separated from the world of his 
heart's affections by many miles of dreary, pathless ocean, and the 
human beings by which he is surrounded can claim no relation to 
his sympathies, either from the past or the future. Letters from 
home are to the traveller in Europe the golden chain which binds 
him to what of life is most dear. They keep vivid the flame 
upon the heart's altar, and quicken the susceptibilities for the en- 
joyment of the beautiful around. Their power is tri-fold, — fii'st, 
he glows in fond anticipation ; then, he devours the sentences 
which unseal the fountain-spring of affection ; afterwards, he lives 
upon the placid sea of pleasant memories. 

But it is with emotions of painful solicitude that you approach 
the letter-office. The chances of your fate balance in the mind. 
Hope, fear, intensely glowing anticipation, and a shrinking dread 
of ill-news, by turns take possession of your soul, and subject it 
to the agitation of a tempest-tost sea. Does a letter await you, 
or are you destined to meet a disappointment so bitter as to en- 
kindle within you feelings almost of ill-will at the cruel neglect of 
your friends ? If a letter, what tidings will it bring? — cheering 
news, and balmy sympathy, or intelligence to rive your heart, and 
shroud the mind in the gloom of utter dejection ? 

I turned away from the office with feelings that may be im- 
agined by the reader, at the disappointment of not finding a letter. 
Strolling along, until reaching the north-western limit of the city, 
I then crossed the Seine at that point, and returned home quite 
fatigued with the pedestrian tour. The promenade formed a cir- 
cuit of several miles. In the course, I took a glimpse of the 
Palais du Louvre, Palais Royal, Chateau de Tuileries, Place de 
la Concord, Champs Elysees, Champ de Mars, and Arc de Tri- 



PUBLIC EDIFICES. II7 



ompTiederEtoile. The contemplation of these grand and mag- 
nificent edifices cannot but exalt the sentiments. They appeal 
with force to the reflection, to the imagination. Erected by the 
genius of man, they are surviving and durable monuments 
at once of his power and his weakness ; of his transitory stay 
upon earth, and his power to reproduce and perpetuate himself 
through endless time. The milKons that were employed in pro- 
ducing these splendid works of art, are now, it is true, mingled 
with the dust which compose the earth upon which the edifices 
stand; still, their spirits live, as truly and effectually in these 
monuments as if now moving in their clayey tenements, amid the 
vast waves of humanity that ceaselessly surge the bosom of this 
great city. When we consider the large amount of human energy 
which these costly buildings must have absorbed, and the toil and 
deprivation they must have wrung from the depressed masses, the 
question may naturally arise, whether this large expenditure of 
the sinew of life can be justified. They are noble and beautiful 
objects, it will be admitted ; but has the highest good of the great- 
est number been advanced by their erection ? Judged by the ele- 
vated standard of humanity, have they really furthered the sum 
of human happiness ? This question, I may not attempt to an- 
swer ; but a thought or two in the connection may not be inappro- 
priate. If the good of human life consists solely in what a man 
eats and drinks, then the motives which led to the construction of 
these edifices cannot be justified ; for it is easy to perceive that 
the vast amount of labor required in their erection, might have 
been otherwise employed to augment, not a httle, the sum of the 
comforts or luxuries of animal existence. But if life is spiritual, 
— if the highest form of existence is in the "most elevated and 
noble thoughts, — if grandeur of soul, purity of taste, and depth 
of sentiment, constitute the essential of human enjoyment here 



J13 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAJSMVOELD. 

below, then the question assumes a somewhat different aspect. 
Taking this view, it would be really difficult to measure their in- 
fluence for good. No one possessing the least susceptibility to the 
appreciation of the noble and beautiful, can gaze upon them in a 
right disposition of mind, without feeling conscious of their influ- 
ence in exalting and ennobling his being. They open his soul to 
impressions of the grand and lovely, and he leaves with a cast of 
thought that will tmge his character in all the future. As he 
mingles in the ocean of human life, his each act, however slightly 
exalted by an enlarged soul, multiplied by the acts of a Hfetime, 
will make an aggregate of salutary influence quite incalculable. 
Let the increased power thus derived for a nobler life, of one in- 
dividual, be multiphed by the thousands of travellers who daily 
contemplate these buildings, and who bear away their impressions 
to be diffused like genial sunshine over the remote corners of the 
world, and we have a still further view of theu- usefulness. It 
cannot be doubted that these edifices constitute one of several 
means which continually operate, silently it is true, but effectually, 
to elevate the Parisian to that spirituahty of mind, and polish of 
style, which compensate much for the grosser aliment of life. 
The power, too, of these edifices is continual. They act like the 
ceaseless hand of time. Not only will millions of the present 
generation of men catch inspirations from the fervor of theu* mute 
eloquence, but the uncounted milhons of mankind in all fu- 
ture time, will successively look up to these magnificent monu- 
ments, and thereby receive an exaltation of soul that shall purify, 
and bless, for good. 

In the day's walk, I met several times, schools issuing from 
their half-prison walls, for an airmg. They were pupils of pri- 
vate boarding estabhshments, of which there are numbers in 
Palis. Some that I encountered, were schools of boys, others of 



PUBLIC AND PEIVATE SCHOOLS. II9 

girls. The bojs were uniformly attired in a rather stiff costume, 
prescribed by the rules of their respective establishments. Thev 
marched in file, under the direction of their teachers, with a pre- 
cision of gait and primness of manner, that would remind you of 
soldiers on drill, rather than bounding schoolboys, letting off in 
wild and irregular explosions the pent-up gasses of a week's con- 
finement. The schools of misses that I met, were less stiffly 
decked, but they were paraded in the same lifeless style. There 
was none of the excess of youthful life and joyousness, brimming 
the eye, radiating the cheek, and giving an elasticity of movement 
so natural and lovely in persons of their age. None of the merry, 
ringing laugh, the artless, playful manner, the free gushing from 
the pure heart's fountain, which so gladdens the beholder, and 
quickens his sentiment of existence. 

The advantages in Paris for pursuing a course of study, are 
preeminently superior; and the private schools, surrounded as 
they are by the vast and magnificent collections in the several de- 
partments of science, natural history, and art, and all entirely 
free to the students, must present strong attractions to pupils from 
the provinces ; still I could not but regai'd all these glorious privi- 
leges — and most certainly they are so — as being purchased at a 
price by no means trivial, when losing the free and invigorating 
air, and the animating sports of country freedom. 

I tarried also a brief hour, to contemplate the splendid monu- 
ment of the Arc de Triomphe de VEtoile, and to revel in the mag- 
nificent view afforded from its summit. The situation of this 
grand edifice could not have been better chosen. It stand? upon 
the liighest ground within the Paris basin, and can be seen from 
all quarters within and without, by the long avenues that terminate 
upon it. Its effect is the most imposing, perhaps, on approaching 
it from the garden of the Tuileries. You emerge from the grove 



120 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

of the garden into the magnificent Place de la Concorde, and 
through which your way is uninterrupted to the Aveime des 
Champs Elysees, along which you proceed between its stately for- 
ests of a mile in length, to the Triumphal Arch at its extremity. 
The ground gradually rises towards the edifice ; and when first 
seen through the vista of the long and wide avenue, it springs 
upon the mmd in a startling but pleasing manner. Indeed, Art 
and Nature have conspired to give it a happy location, and it is 
conceded to be far the most stupendous structure of the kind ever 
erected, either in ancient or modern times. Its cost exceeded the 
enormous sum of nine millions of francs. 

The Arch was originally projected by Napoleon, after the bril- 
liant campaign of 1805, iii which at the head of one hundred and 
sixty thousand men, in the short space of three months, he van- 
quished the splendid armies of Austria and Russia, and humbled 
the pride of those imperious powers ; and it is designed to com- 
memorate those gigantic achievements. Suspended at the Eesto- 
ration, the work was resumed in 1823, but with an entirely differ- 
ent destination from its original. Charles X. would finish none of 
the monuments and public works commenced by Napoleon. In- 
deed he preferred rather the destruction of those akeady existing ; 
so that this monument was to be finished in honor of the victories 
of the Due d' Angouleme in Spain. The revolution of 1830, when 
Charles was driven from the throne, frustrated this design, and 
Louis Phillippe, who succeeded him, animated by his love of the 
fine arts, and with his usual sagacity, caused the edifice to be com- 
pleted after the original plan, and to be made a grand national 
work — a work worthy of the genius and glory of its founder. 
It was finished in 1836. It consists of a single arch ninety-six feet 
in height, forty-eight feet in width, and seventy-three feet in depth, 
and of two small transverse arches. The whole structure is one 



ARC DE TEIOMPHE. jgj^. 



hundred and sixtj-two feet in height, one hundred and forty-seven 
in length, and seventy-three feet in depth. It has numerous colossal 
groups of sculpture, depicting most of the grand battles gained by 
the French in the revolutionary war. It stands quite separate 
from the other buildings, aifording an opportunity to be seen to the 
best advantage. 

The monument is a fit emblem of the grand and magnificent 
character of its founder. It will serve to keep alive in the nation- 
al heart the profound sentiment felt for the genius, splendid talents, 
and unparalleled achievements of the great captain. It will serve 
continually to encircle his name with a halo of light so resplendent 
and enduring, as to shine with undiminished brilliancy through 
succeeding generations of men. The peasant, as he looks up to 
this monument, will have revived in his breast the history of the 
glorious acts of the national prowess ; his soul will expand with 
glowing recollections, and his sentiment of life, his love of nation- 
ality, his pride of country will be keener, fuller. I would not be 
thought to encourage a spirit of war, and if Napoleon had no fur- 
ther claims to our admiration than as having been a warrior of 
^j-anscendent genius, little might be said in favor of a monument to 
perpetuate the glory of his name ; but he stands before us as a 
scholar, statesman, legislator, of consummate ability ; as a man who 
was ever alive to whatever there was of the beautiful, noble, sub- 
lime, either in nature or art, and whose profound genius was ever 
active, in the intervals of the engrossing duties of the eminent sta- 
tion in which fortune had placed him, to increase the greatness 
and glory of his country. This edifice will stand then to kindle 
animating recollections whose influence will develop much of the 
great and generous in human character. 

In the evening, I received a letter from the Minister of Public 
Instruction in Paris, in which I was made welcome to visit the 

11 



122 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



public scLools and institutions of the citj and Versailles. The 
letter advised me to address myself to the Vice-Rector of the 
University of Paris at the Sarbonne, to whom the minister had 
given orders to facilitate my entrance into such institutions as 1 
might desire to visit. I had called a few days before at the office 
of the public minister, but not finding him within, I left my re- 
quest with his secretary, who received me with due politeness, in- 
spected my letters, and promised me, with the utmost cordiality, 
all necessary assistance. Perceiving that I hesitated a little in 
speaking, he, either to relieve my embarrassment or to try his 
ability at speaking English, commenced attempting to converse 
with me in my own language ; but with all due humihty, I must 
say that I did not conceive that he mended the matter a great deal. 
Although it was evident he possessed a fine education, yet he 
succeeded quite indifferently to express himself in the English. 
The minister of public instruction ranks equal with the ministers 
of state, and takes the title of Grand Master of the University. 
He has in his department the University, the Institute, the Acad- 
emies, and learned societies, the establishment of public in- 
struction, the libraries, the museums, and scientific collections. 
The University of France is composed of twenty-seven Acad- 
emies, governed each by a rector. 

Jan. 22d. It being the Christian Sabbath, after attending 
Divine worship in the morning, I made a visit to the famous 
c&metQYj, Pere Lachaise ; — no spot could have been better fit- 
ted to awaken feehngs in harmony with the religious character 0/ 
the day. 

The wide avenue leading to the entrance of this city of tombs, 
was Hned, on either side, with undertakers' shops, sadly displaying 
ready-made coffins, wreaths of evergreens, and other lugubrious 
emblems of the departed. This introductory scene was indeed 



A GEOUP OF MOURNERS. 123 

striking ; but it was by no means congenial to the feelings. It 
constituted a ghastly portal to the beautiful edifice within. 

Proceeding along before me was a hearse, with a small train of 
attendants and mourners. The humble procession, with slow and 
saddened movement, entered the spacious enclosure of the ceme- 
tery, and halted before a narroY/ and unpretending grave, in that 
part of the vast enclosure appropriated to the burial of the poor. 
The space thus set off is situated at the foot of the slope, upon 
which are the adorned grounds for the more fortunate classes, 
and comprises a large area, as it needs must, to hold the 
million poor. It furnishes room for interment, however, only to 
the citizens of five, out of the twelve municipal arrondissements 
of Paris. The ground here is flat, unadorned, and unvariegated. 
Not a slab marks the limits of the graves, which are ranged in 
rows as if the object were to crowd into the space as many bodies 
as possible. This bare and desolate aspect serves, however, to 
render more marked the beauty of the grounds further on. 

The undertaker and his assistant now pulled with a rude hand 
the unpainted coffin out of the rough vehicle, — thrust it uncere- 
moniously into the shallow grave, then tumbled upon it the frozen 
dirt in a manner as devoid of feeling as of sentiment. They were 
evidently fully accustomed to the thing. The repetition of the 
act had completely effaced from their souls whatever of awe or 
sympathy such scenes naturally inspire. What induration of the 
human heart, that can be so easily deprived of those susceptibilities 
glowingly implanted there by the hand of nature ! How sad, that 
the stern duties of life should ever blunt the tender sensibilities 
of the soul ! 

Quite a different scene was presented by the little group of 
mourners standing by the grave. A man bowed with years, a 
woman of nearly the same age, and a young man and girl who 



124 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

resembled eacli otlier enougli to be a brother and a sister, stood 
wringing their hands in mute agonj. The bitterness of their spirit 
was but too clearly depicted on their thin features. Tliej were 
meagrely clad, and their dwindled forms, wasted with penury and 
protracted toil, showed plainly that they belonged to the humblest 
class, and that their lot in life was, in consequence, surrounded with 
unremitting dreariness. But nothing had been able to dim the fires 
of their affection for the departed. These had evidently burned 
as intensely under the dampening influences of their depressed 
condition, as if fanned by the genial gales of easy life. Indeed, 
cast off from the distracting and weakening influences of a luxu- 
rious state, the natural tie of sympathy had been drawn all the 
closer, and deprived of the consolations of philosophy which edu- 
cation brings, their anguish was thus .rendered the more intense. 

I now pursued my way slowly up the hill, between rows of tombs, 
beautifully shaded with trees, while the turf, green even at this 
season, addressed the eye most gratefully. From the little chapel 
on its summit, my eye rested for a moment on the dim spires and 
domes of the city, whose roar of life dwindled to a murmur. Forty 
thousand tombs and mausoleums, with their pyramids, obelisks, 
and urns, rising far and wide above the cypresses and cedars, re- 
vealed the extent of this splendid cemetery, — the finest of the 
Paris cemeteries, and perhaps of the world. No site near the 
city presents aspects more picturesque or varied ; no points of 
view more extensive, rich, or diversified. It is situated on the 
flank and summit of the most eastern of the hills overlooking 

o 

Paris towards Charonne, formerly called Mont-Louis. A sad 
feature in the picture, was the slope of the hill allotted to the poor, 
where countless numbers of black crosses came up in dismal array 
to embitter the sentiment of sweet melancholy that seizes on? 
here. 



TOMBS AND MONUMENTS. 125 

The grounds formerly belonged to a community of Jesuits, of 
^hom Pere Lachaise, confessor of Louis XIY, was superior. It 
was converted into a cemetery by an order of Napoleon. Brong- 
niart, to whom the arrangement of the grounds was intrusted, ac- 
complished his task with remarkable taste and skill. No one can 
wander through Pere Lachaise without being impressed with the 
truth, that no ordinary artist presided over its arrangements. The 
natural features that could be made subservient to the main de- 
sign, were retained. Cypresses are thickly interspersed amid the 
shrubbery, winding paths laid out in every direction ; and along 
their borders, and among the shrubbery, are endless varieties of 
flowers. These varied features of beauty and grandeur, so exten- 
sive and magnificent, while they breathe into the soul a solemn 
calm, elevate the sentiments and induce a frame of mind rather 
pleasurable than otherwise. 

The tombs and monuments display a great variety of taste and 
style. Many of them are pure, chaste, and appropriate ; while, of 
many others, not much can be said in their favor. Many of the 
tombs are miniature chapels, in which the survivors often worship. 
These may be often found furnished with chairs, crucifixes, lamj^s, 
tapers, etc. Flowers are generally kept planted around the tombs, 
or kept in vases and pots upon them, and regularly watered by 
persons employed for the purpose. Wreaths of evergreens, or 
immortelles, as the French call them, may be seen upon the tombs, 
placed there by the hand of affection ; and the number of these, 
and their freshness, afford indication of how the memory of the 
slumbering dead is cherished by their surviving friends. An 
mteresting feature were the epitaphs and inscriptions upon the 
fombs. They Avere generally brief and appropriate, revealing 
some quality of the deceased, and many of them were exceedingly 
tender and beautiful. 

11* 



126 CEESTS IFEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

But tlie chief interest of Pere Lachaise is foiiiid in the great 
names that are inscribed on its monuments, — names that have 
agitated the world, and which the world will ever remember. 
There repose in the severe dignity of death the remains of such 
immortal spirits as La Place, La Fontaine, Moliere, Talma, De- 
lille, Holland, and a host of spirits equally distinguished, though 
perhaps not so well known to most American readers. There are, 
also, Lefebvre, Massena, Kellermau, Davoust, and Suchet, illus- 
trious marshals of France, and also — the spot enclosed with iron 
raiKng — of Ney, the " bravest of the brave." 

One of the most striking monuments is that of Abelard and 
Heloise, the ill-fated lovers, whose genius and misfortune have 
handed down their names to posterity. Its arched roof is sup- 
ported by fourteen columns, and under it is the figure of Abelard, 
in a recumbent posture, with the hands joined upon the breast, — 
and by his side, that of Heloise. The grass around the tomb was 
worn by the tread of pilgrims, and devoted hands had kept fresh 
the garlands above their marble effigies. 

The magnificent mausoleum of Madame Demidoff, is justly ad- 
mired, but not more so than the little tombstone of Madame Cot- 
tin, the spiritual author of Matilda. 

The tomb of La Place is an obelisk of white marble, sur- 
mounted by an urn, with the inscriptions, Mecamque Celeste — • 
Systhne du Ilonde — ProbaUUtts. There is also a scroll sculp- 
tured with the sun and planets. 

Selecting an elevated site, I remained some time in a rechned 
posture, enrapt with the solemn beauty of the scene. Before me 
is the densely thronged city, stretching to illimitable view, and 
throbbing with intense life and animation ; while around me repose 
in solemn grandeur, the ashes of an innumerable company of de- 
parted spirits, who, but a little while ago, were moving in all the 



SCHOOLS. -VICE-EECTOR. 127 

pride and glory of life. There, the rays of the setting sun, soft- 
ened by the smoky atmosphere Avhich rises from the bosom of the 
city, gleam from a thousand domes, spires and turrets ; here, the 
sighing zephyrs, as they pass along the dark foliage, imprint a 
saddened melancholy upon the rising emotions. I stand upon the 
border of two worlds, and the present real, and the future un- 
known, rise before the mind, — the one to the sense, in distinct 
outline, the other to the imagination, in shadowy, but pleasing 
form. Du Pere Lachaise is truly the Paris of Cemeteries. It 
partakes of the genius, the taste, and, I might say, of the vanity 
of the great Parisian world. 

I left the cemetery, as might be supposed, in a pensive mood ; 
and, after crossing the boulevard, which was thronged with people 
apparently in the happiest disposition, and the Barriere du Trone, 
a spot memorable for its affecting associations with other interest- 
ing parts of the city, I reached my room, not a little fatigued, 
where the evening was spent in meditative reading. 

Monday^ Jan. 24:th. Proceeded to the Sarbonne, the head quar- 
ters of the schools, to present my letter from the Minister of Pub- 
lic Instruction, to the Vice-Rector, and to receive from the latter 
further instructions to facilitate my visit to the schools. After 
some inquiry, I found the place, and was shown into the reception- 
room for strangers. Remaining here for some time, and the gen- 
tleman not appearing, I was invited to proceed further, — when, 
in traversing a hall, we accidentally encountered Monsieur the 
Vice-Rector, accompanied by another gentleman. He was passing 
hurriedly along, with both hands full of papers. After a word of 
explanation, he remembered the object of my visit, from the orders 
received of the Minister, and at once comprehended the scope 
of my design. Leading the way, he conducted me to a room, 
begged me to be seated, and then asked some fiitlhei questions, to 



128 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

get precisely at what I wanted. Promising to send me at my 
lodgings a programme comprising a few of every grade of the 
schools, and such as would present the most interest to a stranger, 
I took my leave, well satisfied with the interview. Indeed, noth- 
ing could be more simple and aifable than were his manner and 
conversation, — and they were such as to put you at once per- 
fectly at your ease. There was nothing of the imperious dignity 
which is often met with in officials, so appalling to a stranger, — 
and which, instead of conferring lustre on character, are only the 
index of a vain and narrow mind. He did not evince even the 
air and grace common to the French, and might as easily have 
been taken for an American as a Frenchman, — so thorough a 
leveller of character are science and literature. Scientific and 
literary men of all countries, resemble each other. The common 
world of thought, of sentiment, of feeling, in which they move, 
dissipates local differences, and assimilates them in character and 
manners. They each, by turns, attempted to speak in English ; 
but, it must be said, that they succeeded but poorly, — and yet I 
was assured that they were both distinguished scholars, and were, 
in the common acceptation of that term, familiar with the modern 
languages. But the truth is, that, with some exceptions, it is no 
easy matter for an adult to learn to speak a foreign language with 
idiomatic ease and accuracy, and it is particularly difficult in the 
case of the English in the mouth of a Frenchman. 

On my return, I looked into the splendid edifice of the Pan- 
theon. I had visited it more than once before, and went to see it 
many times after. There are some works of art of which a single 
view or exammation will not satisfy the mind. The feehng which 
their presence awakens, is so ennobling and mild, as to beget a 
desire for the repetition of the pleasure. Of this kind, is the 
noble Pantheon. It is doubtless less rich and mamiificent than 



THE PANTHEON AT PARIS. 129 

several other public edifices in Paris, and has fewer historical as- 
sociations, and contains less works of art, to recommend it ; still, 
there were none that I visited oftener, or received more real plea- 
sure in beholding. As jou gaze upon it, the mind is at once ele- 
vated, and an inspiration seizes you, that imparts a glowing exist- 
ence. The English critics observe that the structure is infej'ior in 
size and composition to St. Paul's in London, which is all very 
true ; still, to my uncultivated taste, the edifice is more pleasing 
and admirable. It is conceded to be a work of great merit, — 
the general proportions being fine, and possessing a rare degree of 
grace and elegance in the outline, as well as grandeur and sim- 
plicity in the design. It stands on elevated ground, clear of other 
buildings, so as to be seen to good advantage ; and as you emerge 
from one of the narrow lanes of the twelfth arrondissement, the 
majestic portico breaks suddenly upon the view with splendid 
effect. It is composed of twenty-two fluted columns, each sixty 
feet in height, supporting a triangular pediment one hundred and 
twenty feet broad by twenty-four in width, in which is a sculp- 
tured composition, by David, representing the genius of France 
(a colossal figure fourteen feet in height), surrounded by the great 
men of the nation. On the frieze beneath is inscribed in gold let- 
ters : Au grands hommes, la patrie reconnaissante. The plan of 
the church is a Greek, or equilateral cross, the exterior having no 
windows, and being ornamented only by a frieze and cornice. In 
the interior a gallery and colonnade line the nave and transepts on 
both sides, forming so many smaller naves and aisles. Semicircu- 
lar windows rise above the colonnades, throwing a strong light 
into all parts of the building. From the centre of the cross rises 
a dome two hundred and eighty-two feet in height, the lower part 
of which is encircled by a Corinthian peristyle of thirty-two col- 
umns, each thirty-six feet in height. The total length of the Pan- 



130 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

theon, including tlie portico, is three hundred and fift j-two feet ; 
interior length, from east to west, two hundred and ninetj-five 
feet ; length of transept, two hundred and sixty -five feet ; uniform 
breadth, one hundi-ed and four feet. The edifice is in imitation 
of the Pantheon at Rome. As you enter, the mind is instantly 
impressed with the air of boldness, lightness, and grace, which ap- 
pears to pervade the entire interior. From this remark must be 
abated the slight defect arising from the substitution of four 
grouped columns at the angles of the meeting of the transepts to 
support better the immense weight of the dome, instead of sepa- 
rate graceful ones ; and also for the substitution of four enormous 
pillars for twelve columns, in the second cupola ; but, by this 
means, the artist has succeeded in imparting to the edifice perfect 
solidity. Over the centre of the pavement of the church, rise 
three concentric domes, built one within the other. Through an 
opening in the lower one, perhaps twenty feet in diameter, may 
be seen a magnificent fresco-painting on the concave ceiling of the 
second, quite two hundred feet above the pavement. In the cen- 
tre of the dome, the sun himself seemed to send forth living pen- 
cils of light, illumining the entire paviHon. In the fullest blaze 
of hght appears the name of God in Hebrew characters ; while 
in the midst of the rays, strongly illuminated, appears vividly the 
painting designed to represent the apotheosis of St. Genevieve, 
the patron saint of Paris, who was buried here in 512, in a church 
built on the spot by Clovis. This grand painting was executed by 
M. Gros, — and the genius of the artist has seized admirably the 
appropriate character for each personage of the group, which he 
has united in the immense painting. The Saint is placed in the 
most elevated spot of the composition, and is represented as a 
shepherdess dressed in white. Everything breathes a spirit of 
happmess and immortality. It is no longer a simple human bemg 



PAINTINGS IN THE PANTHEON. 131 

that you see, but an air of celestial existence pervades. By his 
side are small angels scattering flowers. The images of Louis 
XVI, of the queen of Louis XVII, break forth, surrounded with 
celestial glory. Underneath, the most illustrious princes of each 
dynasty are represented before the Saint. Clovis may be recoo-- 
nized as a savage hero, by traits fit for such a personage. The 
beauty of St. Clotilda is greatly to be admired. She is a queen 
whose holy aspect commands admiration and respect. The altars 
of paganism are falling before them. Charlemagne bears a lofty, 
heroic mien, and in his eyes, and even in his carriage, shines forth 
a genius which places him far in advance of his century. Angels 
are presenting the cross to the Saxons, who received the light of 
faith under his reign. Louis and queen Margaret of Florence 
are upon their knees, from whom beams forth a gentle piety. Near 
the king, are two standards of the cross, symbolizing the two cru- 
sades. Louis XVIII, and St. Genevieve complete the picture. 
This splendid work of art cannot be seen to advantage from the 
pavement of the church, but from the balcony around the superior 
edge of the first cupola, a distinct and beautiful ^dew may be 
had. 

Besides the above painting, there are four allegorical paintings, 
on the pendentives of the dome, in the form of spherical triangles, 
over the corner of the nave. They represent France, Death, 
Justice, and Glory, embracing Napoleon. The effect of these is 
very impressive, but I shall attempt no description of them. 

There were, also, on exhibition in the Pantheon, copies of the 
distinguished paintings seen in the Vatican at Rome, entitled the 
Loges and Stanzas. As Time was making sad inroads upon these 
splendid paintings, in 1835 M. Thiers, then Prime Minister of 
France, conceived the noble idea of wresting the Loges from ob^ 
livion, and having them to ornament the Pantheon. The work 



1^2 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

was confided to Messrs. Paul and Raymond Baize, under the di- 
rection of their master, M. Ingres. Later, in 1840, M. the Count 
du Chatel, Minister of the Interior, employed the same artists to 
make copies of the Stanzas. The artists completed their work, 
after twelve years of assiduous application. 

The Stanzas comprise eight large pictures. They are styled 
the frescos of Raphael, and were originally painted in the halls 
of the Vatican, under the direction of Pope Julius II. 

Some idea of these grand paintings may be obtained by an enu- 
meration of their subjects. They are entitled respectively: — 
Theology, or the Dispute of the Holy Sacrament ; Philosophy, 
or the School of Athens ; Poetry, or Parnassus ; The Mass of 
Balsena; The Burning of Bourg; St. Peter in Prison; Helio- 
dore driven from the Temple ; and, Attila repulsed by St. Leo, 
A full description of them cannot, of course, be attempted in this 
work. As a specimen, however, I will subjoin a brief account of 
the second in the series, viz : Philosophy, or the School of Athens. 
The place of the scene is upon the steps of a magnificent temple, 
whose beautiful proportions would alone suffice to prove that Ra- 
phael was an admirable architect, as well as a sublime painter. 
Towards the top of the stairs, in the centre of the composition, 
are Aristotle and Plato, teaching philosophy in the midst of their 
disciples. Lower down, at the left, is Diogenes the cynic, care- 
lessly reclining upon the steps. On the other side, still lower 
down, is Archimedes, under the traits of Bramante, tracing a 
geometrical figure. Near Archimedes, in a kneeling posture, is 
the duke of Manton, the friend of Raphael. In other parts of 
the composition are, Zoroaster standing, holding in his hand a 
globe ; Raphael himself, with a black cap ; and le Perugin, his 
master. On the other side of the picture, towards the centre, is 
Euclid, in meditation, seated, and leaning upon his elbow. Higher 



TOMBS AND STATUES. I33 

up, Socrates explaining to Alcibiades the theory of numbers. 
Belo\v this group, Pythagoras, surrounded by his disciples. Be- 
hind, leaning against a pilaster, Epicurus, with his head crowned 
with leaves. 

The Loges, which form a continuation of fifty-two pictures, re.- 
present the principal episodes of the Old Testament, since the- 
creation of the world. The Birth of Jesus Christ, The Baptism, 
and The Lord's Supper, complete this series of composition. The 
originals of these, in fresco, are placed in the vaults of the galle- 
ries in the Vatican at Rome. 

The Pantheon is intended to be the "Westminster Abbey of 
France ; and in the vaults beneath the edifice, are the remains of 
the mighty dead. This will, indeed, be a fit resting-place. It is 
divided into small apartments, with arched roofs ; and so nume- 
rous are they, as to be quite labyrinthian. Without a guide, one 
would find it difficult to make his way to them all, — and when 
fairly in, not easy to thread his way out. I passed down, in compa- 
ny with several others ; but we were hurried along so hastily, and 
the explanations made by the guide with such monotonous rapidity, 
as to convey little edification or delight. There were the sarcophagi 
of Rousseau and Voltaire, whose memory is cherished by the 
French, next to that of Napoleon. Over the tomb of VoUaire 
was his marble statue, bearing the same facetious expression as 
the one seen in Rouen. As I have observed before, there is 
something in the expression of this face, so spiritually sarcastic, 
and withal possessing an air of so much mockery, as to cause the 
beholder to shrink back with awe. Here, too, is the tomb of 
Soufilot, the architect of the church, who is said to have commit- 
ted suicide on learning the possibility that the edifice which stands 
over the catacombs, might fall in. The distinguished Lagrange 
also reposes here in the majesty of death. The bodies of some 
12 



3^34 CKESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

are interred with tlieir friends, while their hearts are deposited 
here in sculptured urns. 

In the afternoon, called at the office of the American consul. 
His secretary treated me with all due kindness, and stated that 
letters had been received for me ; but ]\Ir. Balch, not knowing of 
me, after having detained them some time, and no one calling, had 
sent them back to the post-office. There is nothing gained, in 
general, in addressing letters to the care of the American consul, 
in Paris, — and it is a source of some annoyance to him. As the 
postage cannot be paid in advance, the letters which are sent to 
him, and are not called for, burden him with the expense of post- 
age, which is quite an item in France. Besides, letters would be 
just as safe in the post-office, and can be had at any time by call- 
ing for them. It is only necessary to say, post restante, when they 
will remain until called for ; otherwise, they may be sent to your 
rooms, and, by mistake, lost. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

PUBLIC SCHOOLS — MONSIEUR LEFEBVRE — OKDER AND PRECISION 
OF THE SCHOOL — CORPORAL PUNISHMENT PROHIBITED — MODE 
OF TEACHING THE ALPHABET — DRAWING — SINGING — ADVAN- 
TAGE OF THE SYSTEM ITS DEFECTS MUNICIPAL SCHOOL 

FRANCAIS — THE PRINCIPAL AND HIS PROFESSOR — PLAN OF 

THE SCHOOL PREPARATORY DEPARTMENT — NOTRE DAME DE 

LORETTE. 

Having received the promised credentials from Mons. C , 

Vice-rector a la Sarbonne, consisting of a list of such schools as it 
was thought would be most interesting to me, — with a letter 
of recommendation to the several directors and principals, and a 
general order for my free admission to such establishments as I 
might wish to inspect, I set off for the nearest school, indicated on 
my programme, that of Monsieur Lefebvre, situated in Eue du 
Bac. It is one of the Communal Schools of Mutual Instruction, 
for boys, and the tuition is free. It is composed of two hundred 
and forty pupils, between the ages of six and twelve, who are of 
the poorer classes of the Parisian population. They are taught 
here the elements of reading, writing, grammar, arithmetic, sing- 
ing, and drawing. One master presides, assisted by a monitor, 
and ten sub-monitors. The sub-monitors are selected from the 
advanced classes of the school, and officiate by turns, serving, often, 
not longer than one day at a time. The business of these latter 
is to drill the classes over whom they are placed ; in doing which 



3^36 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

tliey pursue a set and undeviating mode of procedure, as they had 
previously been taught by the principal, or director, as he is called. 
For this purpose the class of pupils that are to officiate as moni- 
tors for the day, meet with the principal in the morning, from 
eight to ten o'clock, before the assembhng of the school. 

The room, which is on the second story, is of convenient size, 
and quite comfortable, being high in the walls, well open to the 
light, and amply provided with means of ventilation, although 
possessing no claim to superior beauty or elegance. It is duly 
furnished with black-boards, and the walls are hung with maps 
and cards, on which are traced geometrical diagrams. Plates, on 
which are engraved brief, but appropriate maxims and moral 
sentiments, are also suspended from the walls. I noticed several, 
quoted from the writings of our own Washington and Franklin, — 
names scarcely less revered in France than in the United States. 
The seats and forms were of a length to admit some dozen pupils 
at each, with room to pass behind. They are graduated in height 
to the size of the pupils, who are seated in them in strict con- 
formity to this condition. The school, when thus seated, presents 
a beautifully uniform aspect. 

The principal gives no particular instruction, himself, in the 
school-room ; his business being rather to superintend the general 
government of the school, and give direction to the changes of 
the classes. Sitting in his chair, with a tin whistle he directs 
the movement of the school with as much ease and precision as 
an engineer would a steam-engine. The discipline in respect to 
order, was wellnigh perfect ; the pupils passing through their school 
evolutions and changes with a promptness, precision, and concert of 
movement, really inspiring to the visitor, and which would remind 
you of the mechanical exactness of the drill of Prussian soldiery. 
To show with what ease JMr. Lefebvre ruled his little world, I 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT PROHIBITED TO TEACHERS. 137 



might mention, that during the entire day that I spent at his 
school, he sat by my side, conversing freely, while not the least 
embarrassment could be observed in the exercises of the school. 

The spacious room, occuj^ying the entire dimension of the edi- 
fice, upon the ground-floor, directly underneath the school-room, is 
very appropriately assigned as a baggage and store-room, where 
the pupils, on arriving at school in the morning, deposit their out- 
door clothing and noon-luncheon, and, also, as a comfortable resort 
for shelter and recreation at noon or during intermissions. Two 
long seats were arranged quite around the room, next to the wall, 
for the children to sit on while partaking of their collation, while 
the remainder of the space was left entire for free movement. 
Hooks were fastened in the w^alls, and numbered with mechanical 
exactness, for clothing and dinner paniers. 

Corporal punishment w^as never resorted to, it being, in fact, 
prohibited by the government, in all the schools under its control. 
Not only is the rod and ferule, as instruments of punishment, ban- 
ished entirely from the school-room, but all other modes of 
physical suffering are forbidden, — such as cuffing, pinching, un- 
natural and painful postures of the body, imprisoning, and what- 
ever else would tend to deform the body, excite the passions, or 
sour the disposition. Incorrigible pupils, as a last resort, are ex- 
pelled from the school by the local committee. Among other 
modes of punishment practised, to secure order and obedience, as 
a penalty, the pupil is made to stand face to the wall, with hands 
behind, and suspended around his neck a badge, marked naughty, 
or some such term of reproach. He is sometimes required to re- 
main after school, or lose a merit-mark, or subjected to such kinds 
of penalties, which, according to circumstances, would be suggested 
to the ingenuity of any teacher. 

Rewards are resorted to, to inspire emulation. The pupil who 

12* 



;j^38 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

misses in liis recitation, is put clown ; and the one who is found at 
the head, at the close of the exercise, receives the reward, — 
which consists, for the time, of a small piece of pasteboard marked 
^^ prize:' After having received a certain number of these, they 
are exchanged for a certificate ; and a certain number of these 
other, are exchanged for a book, or some other appropriate and 
valuable token of merit. 

To secure punctuahty, recourse is had to a system of demerits, 
and petty deprivations ; and if this gentle means is not sufficient 
to correct the evil, a printed note of inquiry is sent to the parent, 
asking an explanation of the delinquency ; but parents are not 
imprisoned, as it is stated they are in Prussia, for non-attendance 
of their children. 

Mr. Lefebvre informed me that there is a difference of opinion 
among practical educators, in regard to the point so long mooted 
with us, — whether, in teaching the alphabet, the letters should be 
learned separately, and then combined in syllables and words ; or, 
whether whole words should be first taught, and afterwards ana- 
lyzed, or resolved into their elements. Many teachers practise 
both methods simultaneously; and all educators concur in the 
opinion, that the sounds or powers of the letters should either be 
taught before their names, or in connection with them. It should 
be observed, by w^ay of explanation, that the orthoepy of the 
French, as w^ell as that of the modern languages of Europe gene- 
rally, is much more regular than that of the English, — so that 
spelling words by the sounds of the letters, instead of their names, 
would be more natural and successful wdth those languages, than 
with ours. In this school, the names of the letters were first 
given to the pupil, and afterwards their different powers or sounds. 
Arithmetic was taught much in the same manner as w-ith us. In 
teaching reading, cards, on which were printed in large, plain type, 



METHOD OF TEACHING IN FRANCE. 139 

the several elements of discourse, from a letter to a paragraph, 
were made use of. The monitor points to the letter, or word, and 
the class, either separately, or in concert, give the element or com- 
bination, and then it is analyzed. 

Pupils practise the first rudiments of writing, by means of 
slate and pencil. The scholars remain in their seats, each with a 
slate and pencil in hand, and eyes fixed upon the card before the 
class, upon which has been Avritten, by the monitor, the lesson to 
be imitated by the pupils. When all is ready, the monitor 
commences by reading to the class, in an audible manner, and 
with distinct utterance, the word to be copied. Then, at a signal, 
the first division make the copy, in a dehberate manner, and Avith 
all due pains-taking. The other divisions follow the same mode. 
The exercise is of an hour's length. 

Drawing is here taught principally by means of the black- 
board. The teacher, or monitor, who is of course a proficient in 
the branch himself, makes the copy to be imitated, adapting it in 
character to the average capacity and stage of advancement of 
the class. The pupils then set themselves earnestly to work, ani- 
mated, evidently, by a healthy emulation, each to make a more 
perfect copy than his neighbor. Before commencing the exercise, 
the teacher gives some general description of the picture, both to 
impart a clearer visual conception of its character to the class, and 
to interest them in its subject, — while during the continuance of 
the exercise, he frequently calls attention to particular features, 
sometimes giving explicit directions to be faithfully observ^ed. I 
noticed, however, a class composed of older pupils, practising from 
cards on the forms before them. 

The principal is required by law, to impart to the school moral 
and religious instruction. For this purpose, the Bible is used in 
the school, although the Old Testament part of it is excluded. In 



140 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the first exercise in the morning, the whole school go through tn ith 
prayers, which consists of a brief form v/hich thej repeat me- 
chanically, and in a monotonous manner, each division in concert, 
after their several monitors ; and, at the closing exercise in the 
afternoon, they make some signs connected with the mysteries of 
their religion, which is followed by singing in Latin a verse, — of 
the meaning of which, the teacher told me they were completely 
ignorant. Besides these exercises, they repair in company to the 
church, two or three times a week, where they receive from a 
priest instruction in the Catholic catechism, with such moral in- 
struction in addition, as is thought befitting. 

The order of the school was admirable, although I observed 
several pupils cry during the day. There was no whispering, 
clandestine communication, nor unnecessary movement, nor noise. 
Everything in this line moved with the utmost precision, prompti- 
tude, and regularity. A sentiment of mutual respect, and reve- 
rence for the teacher, seemed to pervade the school, very grateful 
to the feelings of the cursory visitor. Industry and assiduity were 
visible among all the pupils. The calisthenics, with which the 
exercises were interspersed, had the happy effect of relieving the 
monotony of the school exercises, and imparting animation to 
the pupils. The singing was really inspiring. Every pupil joined 
the exercise with readiest ease, and engaged in it with evident 
enthusiasm ; and it is by no means easy to judge of the effect 
of two hundred and forty juvenile voices in a single room, burst- 
ing upon the ear with their sweet, silvery, joyful melody, with 
the most exact movement of time, in excellent tune, and with 
wonderful blending of voices. The charm was really magic-like, 
and for the moment you are carried away into a region of blissful 
emotions. 

The compensation of teachers for this class of schools, in the 



SCHOOLS OF MUTUAL INSTEUCTION. 141 

city of Paris, is from three hundred to four hundred dollars per 
annum. They have, besides, opportunity to increase this sum, by 
teaching evening schools, or in engaging in any other pursuit for 
Tvhich their talents qualify them. 

Mr. Lefebvre had been engaged in teaching, twenty years ; and 
in the present school, eight years ; and yet he evinced all the vi- 
vacity and enthusiasm of youth. This is the more surprising, 
as he was engaged in teaching from six in the morning till eleven 
in the evening, — having private classes, and being employed to 
teach in one of the evening schools for adults. It should be ob- 
served, however, that his duties in school are much less arduous 
than with those teachers who, in addition to government, have to 
instruct classes. 

He received me with the utmost politeness of manner, and with 
true cordiality and frankness, — spared no pains to show me all 
around, and give me such information as he had in his power. 

This school was pointed out to me by Monsieur le Vice- Rector 
a la Sarbonne, as the best of the eleven schools of mutual instruc- 
tion in the city, which were established in 1815 by Messrs. Martin 
and Froissard. The plan is copied after the Lancastrian schools 
in England, and their success is spoken of in high terms of praise 
by the authorities in cliarge of the matter. Undoubtedly, this 
system of mutual instruction is carried in these schools to a good 
degree of perfection, — and in the matter of pecuniary economy, 
there is much to recommend it. Only one master of moderate 
attainments is required for a school of from two hundred to three 
hundred pupils. Besides, so pei-fect is the system, and so exactly 
is it followed, even in its minutest details, aside from obtaining con- 
siderable elementary knowledge in the branches, they necessarily 
contract valuable habits of order, economy, punctuahty, obedience, 
and respect for superiors. Still, no philosophical educator will 



142 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

fail to perceive that the system is incapable of affording the high- 
est form of instruction, or imparting the fullest development to 
mind. Education can never fulfil its high mission, unless the 
teacher can command time to become familiar with each individual 
mind under his care, and to adapt his mode of teaching to its pe- 
culiarities. This idea is fully carried out in the more liberal and 
enlightened institutions of Europe, in many of which there is a 
teacher for every eight or ten pupils. 

Jan. 21th. Made a visit to the Municipal School Frangais 7, 
Rue de Blanche. On presenting myself at the gate, which opens 
into the court, the porter took my letters to Mr. Gouheau, the Di- 
jector of the establishment. The latter gentleman, handsomely 
dressed, rather portly in person, and with a business air, received 
me with perfect courtesy and cordiality, and at once entered into 
lively conversation, communicating in the most rapid manner 
imaginable, items of information concerning the school. His 
enunciation was so distinct, and the tones of his voice so clear, 
that I understood readily nearly all he uttered ; but in a few mo- 
ments, he begged to take the liberty to introduce to me his 
professor in the English language, who would be most happy to 
give me such information as I might desire, and to show me over 
the establishment. The latter gentleman soon appeared, and went 
on in the same hurried manner, detailing the plan and arrange- 
ments of the institution, comparing it with similar institutions iu 
Germany and England, in which countries he had himseh" jour- 
neyed, — and, in fine, developing to my mental view the compre- 
hensive and complicated system of schools in Paris. But his pro- 
nunciation was so indistinct, and his utterance so hurried, that I but 
partially understood him, and more than once reminded him of 
his being the teacher of Engiish, and that I was able to under- 
stand that language somewhat better than the French. At last 



MUNICIPAL SCHOOL. 143 



he plainly told me, that although professor of the English lan- 
guage, and having travelled in England, still he never attempted 
to speak the language. I could hardly make myself believe that 
a professor of one of the best and most distinguished schools of 
Paris, could be wanting in the very branch to which his entire 
time was devoted. But, perhaps, the eminence even of his posi- 
tion made him fearful of attempting to express himself in a lan- 
guage, which he could hardly have done without making some 
mistakes. 

It being Thursday, there was no afternoon session of the school, 
so that I was not able to witness recitations, — but an inspection 
of the rooms, premises, apparatus, with full and minute explana- 
tions, in regard to everything there, enabled me to get a tolerably 
good idea of the institution. 

The school was founded by the city, in 1844, and is under the 
supervision of a board of six distinguished literary or scientific 
gentlemen. The professors and associate masters are chosen by 
the administration of the school. The institution is designed to 
occupy a medium rank, between the more common private semi- 
naries, and the University of France. It affords superior facili- 
ties for acquiring a very thorough and extensive practical educa- 
tion, for the various avocations of life, including the pursuit of 
teaching. Indeed, in regard to the latter point, the professor of 
English very deliberately informed me, that the school had been 
more successful, even than the best Normal schools, in sending 
out accomplished and efficient teachers of public and private 
schools, and even Academies. 

The institution corresponds to those schools which have been in 
existence for fifteen years in almost all the German states, and 
which are there styled Real Schools. The course occupies six 
years, one class graduating every year, and the instruction, except 



144 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

in those branches based upon the ancient languages, is considered 
complete. The student is advanced to a higher class only after a 
most rigid examination, and his qualifications having been con- 
firmed by the board. 

The examination for admission to the freshman class, requires 
the applicant to be tolerably familiar with reading, writing, the 
elements of orthography, the first notions of geography. Sacred 
history, and the ground-rules of arithmetic in whole numbers and 
decimals. The pupil must also be able to write with sufiicient 
ability to take notes without hesitation, and to follow readily a 
dictation. 

The course of instruction comprises the study of the French 
grammar, the French language and its waiters ; the English, Ger- 
man, Italian, and Spanish languages ; history and geography in 
all their branches ; computation ; arithmetic, with its applications ; 
geometry, algebra, accounts, cosmography, zoology, husbandry, bot- 
any, geology, mineralogy, natural philosophy, chemistry, industrial 
mechanics ; the study of first materials ; technology, linear-drawing, 
ornamental drawing, carpentry, architecture, laying of plans, per- 
spective, drafting, construction, and singing. At the request of pa- 
rents, languages not comprised in the course are taught their chil- 
dren by private instructors. This course will appear the more exten- 
sive, when it is considered that many of the branches are taught by 
professors M'ho have made a distinct branch an exclusive subject 
of investigation for many years, and who thus having a most 
thorough and extensive knowledge of the subject, have facilities 
for illustrating the details of the study. 

The studies are so arranged, that the pupil who should be com- 
pelled to leave before having completed the course, will have re- 
ceived a knowledge of the fundamental principles, around which 
it will be comparatively easy to gather dependent acquisition. 



SCHOOL EEGULATIONS. 145 



For the benefit of such applicants, as are not able to pass an 
examination for admission to the freshman class, there is estab- 
lished a preparatory department. 

Both boarders and day-scholars are admitted. The school is 
formed into two divisions; the smaller college with pupils thirteen 
years and upwards ; and the larger college, with those who have 
not attained the age of thirteen. 

The dormitories and study-rooms of the divisions are entirely 
separate, as well as meals and recreations. 

The reHgious direction of the school is confined to i£ Z ' Abhe 
Dimcel, curate, or vicar of Mtre Dame de Lorette ; while M., the 
pastor Coquerel, gives instruction every week to the protestant 
pupils. 

The medical counsel of the schools is composed of four dis- 
tinguished physicians. 

Every three months the parent of the student receives a cer- 
tificate of the conduct and progress of the latter, with remarks 
from each member of the faculty. Besides this, each pupil is re- 
quired to transcribe into his journal the register of his standing, 
in regard to scholarship, conduct and moral character, as given 
him by the professors, which is to be inspected and signed by his 
parents or guardians, on their days of visit to the school. 

Pupils who have not applied themselves satisfactorily to their 
studies during the term, are required to study during the vacation. 

The pupil before being admitted must present a certificate, first, 
of his birth ; second, of his vaccination ; third, of his good con- 
duct, if he has ever attended another school. 

Pupils are required to be in their rooms as early as nine o'clock 
in the evenmg. They are permitted to receive visits only from 
their parents, correspondents, and persons allowed by their parents 
or by the faculty of the school. 
13 



.46 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD 



Parents are requested to leave in the hands of their children no 
valuable trinket, or spending-money. The pupil must bring no 
book to school withou:!; submitting it to the director for his ap- 
probation. 

The terms are, two hundred dollars per annum, for boarders ; 
and forty dollars, for day-scholars. 

I have been the more particular to enumerate several of the 
more prominent features and regulations of this school, as it is es- 
teemed one of the best appointed in Paris. 

On my return, I looked into the church of JVotre-Dame-de- 
Lorette. Although this is not usually spoken of in the descriptions 
of Paris, as one of the most notable religious edifices, yet I must 
confess that it presented points of interest and beauty that I have 
not found surpassed. 

It is completely isolated on all sides, and forms a basilica, 
uniting the Grecian style of architecture, and ornament, of the 
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, mingled with the Byzantine. 
The interior is of the greatest richness. The numerous paintings 
with which its chapel is filled, were executed upon the spot, and 
were designed for the places they occupy, giving to the tout en- 
semhle of the view a unity and agreeableness of effect that could 
not otherwise have been obtained. Aside from the places reserved 
for Divine worship, the church is capable of accommodating about 
three thousand persons. 



CKAPTEK XIV. 

COMMUNAL SCHOOL — CHARACTER OF THE SCHOOL — PRIVATE 
DAY AND BOARDING-SCHOOL BY THE FRERES — PLAN OF THE 
SCHOOL — SINGING — MUNICIPAL SCHOOL SUPERIOR — ARRANGE- 
MENT OF THE BUILDING — DRAWING — CHURCH ST. EUSTACHE 

CATHEDRAL DE NOTRE DAME, COMPARED WITH THE ROUEN 

CATHEDRAL — BELL — SPLENDID INTERIOR — HISTORICAL ASSO- 
CIATIONS — CORONATION OF NAPOLEON ENGLISH EPISCOPAL 

CHURCH — MUDDY STREETS — PRACTICE OF THE LADIES — HO- 
TEL DES INVALIDS — EXTERIOR — INTERIOR — BRILLIANT RE- 
MINISCENCE OF THE OLD SOLDIER MILITARY SCHOOL — WO- 
MAN AMONG THE LOWER ORDERS. 

Jan. 2^th. Yisited one of the Communal Schools, kept by the 
Freres rue Montgoliiere. The director received me with great 
delicacy and politeness, mingled with a goodness of manner that 
was really delightful. With the utmost willingness, and apparent 
pleasure, he conducted me through the different apartments of 
the school, explaining everything on his way, and answering my 
numerous questions with the utmost readiness. 

The school is composed of about six hundred pupils, and is 
conducted by six teachers, — a single teacher having the manage- 
ment and principal instruction of one hundred pupils. The direc- 
tor informed me that it was not at all difficult for a teacher to 
manage successfully so large a number ; but I was inclined to dif- 
fer from him in opinion on that point, and my observations upon 



148 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the school fully corroborated my view. The order in the different 
rooms was by no means satisfactory. The pupils were not only 
noisy, but they had listless habits, and were not prompt in obeying 
the teacher's commands. 

The exercises in arithmetic were indifferent. Although the 
pupils showed considerable readiness in performing examples, and 
especially in applying the principle of cancellation, yet they were 
unusually ignorant in regard to the principles of the rules, and 
were unable to give a reason for some of the simplest steps in the 
process of a solution. The reading, too, in my humble judgment, 
was the poorest that I ever listened to in a school. The pupils 
called the words with sufficient fluency, but their enunciation was 
sadly indistinct, the pronunciation faulty, while there was nothing 
in their reading that could, with a shadow of justice, be termed 
expression ; but on the contrary, the most disagreeable monotony 
pervaded the whole style, robbing the pieces of whatever of pleas- 
ure the sentiments were calculated to inspire. 

The drawing and writing, to which much attention is given 
here as in all the schools, were, however, superior ; and some 
specimens shown me, executed by comparatively young pupils, 
were surprisingly excellent, and would have done credit to artists 
of greater pretensions. 

Here, as in several other schools that I visited, the teacher most 
cordially assented to my request for permission to address the school. 
The announcement of this intention by the teacher, produced, with 
good reason, a lively sensation among the pupils, and every eye 
beamed with expectancy. To hear their own language from the 
mouth of a foreigner, kindled their juvenile curiosity so high that 
they leaned forward, as if they would press out of their seats ; and 
when I asked who would perform a few simple questions for me, 
eveiy hand was up, and many of them trembling with a nervous 



V:?iYATE BOARDING-SCHOOL. 149 



mc'^.cxii.ii^ iDdic?aiiiig inteEse eagerness. The questions I put, 
were such as these : " Can you begin at the left hand to add ? " 
" The explanation for multiplying by the factors of a number ? " 
and their almost total ignorance of the principles, gave further 
proof that it is quite impossible for one teacher to instruct well 
so large a number as one hundred pupils. 

They learn here, Reading, Writing, Arithmetic, the French 
language. Drawing, and the elements of some of the higher 
branches. 

The principal informed me, that there are some thirty schools 
taught in Paris by the Freres. The compensation of teachers of 
this class of schools, is about three hundred and twenty dollars 
per annum. Such as are successful receive, besides, medals of 
honor, and a gratuity in case of being disabled ; and in case of 
decease, something for their families. 

After looking in upon several schools, I was conducted by one 
of the Freres to a private institution which received both boarders 
and day-scholars. This was of a more elevated character than 
those just named, and its members were from families in easy cir- 
cumstances in life. I did not, however, see that neatness and ele- 
gance, either in the rooms or in the dress and persons of the 
pupils, which I expected. This was styled one of tlie Christian 
schools of the Freres, and is established with the idea of rearing 
a solid education upon a religious basis. Although private, it is 
authorized by the University of France, and its plan is after those 
which have been for some time in successful operation in Rouen, 
Rheims, Lyons, Nantes, Sainte-Etienne, and in other large places 
in France. The school is divided into two sections ; the first in- 
cludes youth between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, who de- 
sign to follow a mercantile or industrial life. They are carefully 
instructed in the tenets and forms of religion, and are taught 

13* 



150 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-Y/ORLD. 

grammar, and the principles connected with it, — such, for in- 
stance, as grammatical analysis, logic, and some idea of style. 
Also, Arithmetic, Book-Keeping, Geometry, with its applications, 
such as drawing plans, carpentry, etc. ; Drawing, including per- 
spective, linear, ornamental, and figure; Geograpiiy, including 
commercial and historical ; History, including Ecclesiastical, An- 
cient and French; Vocal Music; the elements of the Natural 
Sciences. 

Ornamental branches not included in the above lists, — such as 
instrumental music, and the study of the living languages, such as 
English, German, etc., are extra. 

"What is termed the second section of the school, composed of 
young children, who design at a later period to pursue the study 
of the Latin language, in an establishment of secondary instruction, 
are carefully taught the elements of such branches as are appro- 
priate to their age and designs. 

Pupils enter school at eight o'clock in the morning, and leave 
at half past five o'clock in the afternoon, taking their dinners at 
the establishment, for which no extra charge is made. The ex- 
pense to this class of pupils is about one dollar per week. A 
slight additional charge is made for use of furnishings at the table, 
library, and philosophical and chemical apparatus. 

Pupils are accompanied in a promenade every fortnight, of 
Thursday afternoon ; and parents are required to furnish theii 
children who are members of the school, a uniform-coat, after the 
style adopted by the institute, for Sundays, fete-days, and for 
promenade. 

The several branches comprised in the course are eiSciently 
taught here, by six or eight competent professors. The time for 
each recitation is ample, the classes conveniently small, and there 
is an appearance of the work being well done. English U 



MUSIC IN SCHOOLS. 151 



taught by a professor from London, -who divides his time among 
several schools in the citj. The director spoke English very dis- 
tinctly, and with tolerable ease, although he assured me that he 
had attended to learning the language but a short time, and could 
get but little ojDportunity for practice. It is really surprising with 
what difference of facility different minds acquire a foreign lan- 
guage ; some gaining enough to be able to express themselves in- 
telligibly, and with ease, in a short time ; while others, with 
equally good intellectual capacity, never arrive to any fluency or 
correctness of expression, however much study or practice they 
may have given to it. 

No corporal punishment was allowed in this school ; and the 
order was by no means good. Several regulations I have omitted 
here, being the same as in the school described under the head 
Franrais I. 

The exercise in music to which I listened, was highly interest- 
ing and satisfactory. It was conducted with a degree of spirit, 
energy and thoroughness, that could not fail to impart to a stranger 
a high opinion of the efficiency of this department of instruction 
in Paris. The professor, himself familiar with the subject, con- 
ducted the exercise in an easy, animated and enthusiastic manner. 
His habits of mind, as evinced in his instruction, were evidently 
reduced to the strictest method, and to great simphcity of ar- 
rangement and gradation in the steps of mental effort, and were 
well adapted to the minds of his class. There was, moreover, a 
philosophical character pervading the whole, which revealed the 
true master ; and from the moment of commencing, to the close 
of the exercise, he moved rapidly and boldly on, without the 
slightest hesitation or unnecessary repetition. The pupils, catch- 
ing the inspiration of the teacher, were all ear, eye and mouth, 
completely thrilled with emotion, and almost bounding with interest 



X52 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

Instead of tlie ordinary staff with lines and spaces, tlie tones 
were indicated by means of figures, arranged in a horizontal line. 
This new method of representing musical characters, though not 
generally adopted, has an advantage over the old, of greater sim- 
plicity ; and the professor informed me, that although he instructed 
his class in the old method, he was more successful with the 
latter, and that he hoped ere long to see it generally introduced. 

He spent about half the hour in drilling his class on the different 
scales, and the remainder of the time in executing combinations 
as a drill, and some of these were difficult in a high degree. 

Jan. 2Qth. Visited the Municipal School Superior, kept by M. 
Pompe^ rue St. X' Orient. The building, which is quadrangular 
in form, encloses a small square or open court, which affords a 
delisrhtfal retreat to the scholars at recess and noons. The interior 
front of the edifice is ornamented by a portico supported by fluted 
columns extending quite around the square, presenting not only a 
pleasing aspect to the eye, but a most agreeable promenade, pro- 
tected alike from the rays of the sun in midsummer, and the ram 
in inclement seasons. The rooms through which the director es- 
corted me, with an air a little dignified and condescending, were 
by no means elegant, though they were spacious and conveniently 
arranged. The walls of the salle a manger, or dining-room, were 
covered with fine drawings, made by those who either were at the 
time, or had previously been, pupils of the school. One of these 
was a map of Paris and its environs. It was on a surface of not 
less than ten feet square, and was most elaborately and beautifully 
done. Much attention here, as in all the schools, was given to 
drawing. In the Salle a Dessin were several exquisite models for 
moulding in plaster, while the walls were hung with elegant pat- 
terns. The chemical laboratory was well appointed, and the phi- 
losophical and other apparatus quite complete. 



CATHEDRAL DE NOTRE DAME. 153 

The school is composed of about three hundred and twenty- 
pupils, — eighty occupying a single room. The order was good 
among all the divisions ; and there was an appearance of industry 
and care with the pupils, which spoke well for the school. They 
are received here at the age of thirteen, and remain three years. 
The pupils are mostly from the middling classes of the Parisian 
population, and pay tuition. A few indigent pupils, however, are 
admitted, whose expenses are defrayed by the city. The highest 
sum paid any teacher in this school, is six hundred dollars per an- 
num. Much use was made of the Black-Board. No reading 
taught here. No corporal punishment. Emulation encouraged. 
For prizes, medals and books are given. Pupils expelled, as a 
last resort. 

On my return, I looked into the beautiful church of St. JEiis- 
iache, in the Third Arrondissement of the city. A detailed des- 
cription of it could not be given here, even if it were certain that 
the account would prove entertaining to the general reader. This 
vast edifice, commenced in 1532, and only finished in 1642, was 
at first only a small chapel dedicated to aS'^. Agnes. The great 
length of time occupied in its building, fails to astonish the mind, 
when the immense j)ile, with its decorations and sculpture, are 
once fairly contemplated. The church is rich in pictures, and the 
traveller would be well repaid with a visit to them. 

CATHEDRAL DE NOTRE DAME. 

There are very many religious edifices in Paris, all of them more 
or less instructive and interesting ; but there is no other, perhaps, 
that impresses the mind so strongly, and awakens so many and di- 
verse emotions in the breast of the beholder, as the church of Notre 
Dame. Its antiquity, its immense size, the style of its architec- 
ture, its interior decorations, and especially its historical associar 



154 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-T\^ORLD. 

tlons, all combine to render it a pile of thrilling interest. lu ex^ 
ternal appearance, majestic as it is, it does not equal the Cathedral 
at Rouen ; but its decorations, both within and without, are more 
curious and elaborate ; the former being chiefly paintings, the lat- 
ter sculptured ornaments. It would require volumes to give a 
description of these compositions. There is scarcely a prominent 
person or event in scriptural or ecclesiastical history, that is not 
here illustrated, with many fanciful inventions besides. 

Its facade is grand and imposing beyond expression. A high, 
and deeply cut, arched door-v^-ay, massively rich in sculptured 
ornaments, opens to the main entrance. On either side is a smaller 
door-way, and above this, in solemn grandeur, an elevated and 
massive tower, evidently intended for the bases of steeples. The 
general architecture is pure, pointed gothic, and though its effect is 
grandly impressive, its beauty is somewhat marred by the absence 
of steeples, pinnacles, etc. It is a cruciform edifice. Its length 
externally is four hundred and forty-two feet ; breadth, one hun- 
dred and sixty-two feet ; length of transepts, three hundred and 
fifty-two feet. The towers are two hundred and thirty-five feet 
high. 

You reach the summit by a stairway of three hundred and 
eighty-nine steps, situated in the western tower, from which a 
splendid view is spread out to the eye, displaying, in picturesque 
beauty the chief points of interest in the capital, the winding 
course of the Seine, and the magnificent country views with which 
Paris is surrounded. 

In the western tower is the bell, whose deep and heavy tones 
are only heard on occasions of great solemnity. Its dimensions 
are so huge as to require the utmost exertions of sixteen able- 
bodied men to give it motion. 

The vastness and religious gloom of the interior of the church 



NOTRE DAME. 



155 



impresses strongly, from the first, the mind of the beholder. After 
contemplating the exterior of the grand edifice, you experience on 
entering it no feeling of surprise or disappointment. There is a 
correspondence and harmony of effect, which do not destroy nor 
weaken the first emotion, but only elevate and strengthen it. 
The mind is almost staggered with delight, as the brilliant sanc- 
tuary, resplendent gildings, costly marbles, and master-pieces of 
statuary, burst upon the view. The perspective from the front 
entrance to the depth of the sanctuary is surpassingly fine, and, 
as you gaze upon the lofty vaults, the numerous pillars that sus- 
tain them, the happy disposition of the masses, the harmony of 
the whole, the perfection in the details, you can hardly realize 
that it is all the work of three centuries. 

Upon the identical spot now occupied by Notre Dame, there ex- 
isted, it is said, in the reign of Tiberius, a temple dedicated to 
Jupiter, Vulcan, and Castor and Pollux. As early as a. d.3 65, 
after the Parisians had become Christians, they threw down these 
idols, and replaced them by a Christian church. This edifice be- 
coming insufficient to accommodate the increase of the population, 
in 1161, Maurice de Sully commenced the erection of the present 
noble structure, and Alexander III. placed the first stone, in the 
year 1163. Successive additions were made to it up to the six- 
teenth century. 

The historical associations of Notre Dame invest the gloomy 
pile with intense interest. Here, in November, 1793, was enacted 
that blasphemous scene which astonished all Europe. A courte- 
zan, by the name of Maillard, was installed as the " Goddess of 
Reason," upon the high altar of the cathedral, by Herbert and his 
associates, surrounded by immense throngs of infatuated men. 
Here, too, in April, 1802, less than nine years after, was celebrated 
the reestablishment of the Catholic religion, with great pomp. But 



X56 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the most gorgeous and magnificent ceremony, which the venerable 
walls of Notre Dame have ever witnessed, was the coronation of 
Napoleon and Josephine, in 1804, as emperor and empress of the 
French. The display of splendor and riches on that occasion, 
dazzled the eyes of even the Parisians. The pope came from Rome 
to place the crown upon his lofty brow. Such an honor had not 
been conferred on any monarch for ten centuries. Charlemagne 
was crowned by a former pope, but the Emperor of the West had 
to go to Rome for the honor. The precise spot of the coronation 
is indicated by a star wrought in the marble floor, in front of the 
great altar ; and the robes worn on the occasion by the different 
high functionaries, are still shown the stranger. They are all 
splendid ; Napoleon's, surpassingly so. 

Sunday, Jan. SOth. Attended Divine service to-day at the 
English episcopal church, rue d' Agguessiau. It is a small, but 
beautiful church, having been recently fitted up in the EngUsh- 
Gothic style, for the EngUsh ambassador, and the English resi- 
dents in Paris. 

As I entered the vestibule of the church, I was the occasion of 
a trivial incident, which I hardly knew whether to receive, or not, 
in a compHmentary light. The sexton, to whom I addressed my- 
self, in English, for the favor of a seat, replied to me in very in- 
different French, thus leading me to conclude that my poor 
English, and what my friends are often pleased to call un-Ameri- 
can features, had very naturally betrayed the too credulous En- 
glishman into an egregious error as to my nationality. 

The company assembled was not large, but the air of manners, 
and quality and style of dress, showed it to be very select in 
character. I observed here a similar feature in the mode of 
conducting the worship as prevails in the French protestant 
church, in the city. It is in having two officiatmg clergymen ; 



IrlVISION OF LABOR IN PEEACHING. 157 



one, to conduct tlie preliminary exercises, such as tlie opening 
prayer, reading the hymn, etc., and affording to the other, who is 
the preacher proper, entire freshness of powers for the effort of 
the sermon. I would not say that this mode is not preferable to 
that in our own country generally, requiring all the services, ex- 
cepting singing, of the preacher. It was certainly in conformity 
with the practice of the extreme division of labor, so fully carried 
out in Europe, in all departments of life ; a principle which con- 
tributed, no doubt, to the superior character of those sermons 
which I listened to in Paris. They gave evidence of high talent 
united with research and care in writing. 

The subject of the text was, the miracle of Christ on the oc- 
casion of casting out evil spirits from men, and causing them to 
enter a herd of swine. The preacher contended that these were 
really evil spirits, or demons, and not a state of lunacy. He re- 
futed the objection often made, that this miracle seamed an excep- 
tion to the general benevolent tenor of Christ's work. The style 
of the preacher was clear, argumentative, and elegant, and highly 
impressive. 

Jan. "^Xst. The weather, which had been so severe as to freeze 
over the Seine, was now as mild as a day of Spring. The soft- 
ening of the air, and some falling weather, had rendered the 
streets, as a matter of course, uncomfortably muddy. This annoy- 
ance was, however, in a good measure remedied by the efficient 
means used, by men employed by the government, to remove the 
dirt. Troops of them might have been seen in all the principal 
streets, some with huge brooms, which they used with admira- 
ble dexterity ; others with teams, to remove the muddy excres- 
cence ; while others still, with engines ready to apply a moderate 
shower-bath to such parts as the public convenience seemed 
most to require. Muddy streets are ever a sore grievance to the 

14 



158 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

foot-passer in the city ; but the Parisian manages to let this, as 
well as most others of the petty miseries of life, disturb but little 
his equanimity. Especially is the remark true of the women. 
As carriage conveyance is exceedingly cheap, perfectly convenient, 
and safe, most well-dressed ladies would, of course, choose that 
mode of transit, especially in foul weather ; yet there may always 
be seen ladies elegantly attired promenading and crossing the 
streets at every possible angle. When it is the fashion, as is most 
generally the case, for the robe of a lady's dress to fall so low as 
to sweep the pavement, muddy streets would be to some females 
a matter of real embarrassment ; but not so with the fair Parisians. 
They resolve the matter at once, by gathering up with the utmost 
sangfroid, their gown, and not unfrequently skirts and all, com- 
pletely away from all contact of the envious element below, — dis- 
playing to the more curious, the perfect contour of the lower 
nether limbs far more than would meet the approval of the fasti- 
dious. This practice cannot but strike very oddly an American, 
accustomed as he is at home to a degree of fastidiousness in the 
manners of the fair sex, approaching to squeamishness. Accord- 
ingly, it is with them a subject of general and lively remark, and 
not unfrequently of severe animadversion. The American lady 
in Paris is, of course, at first a little shocked ; but the repetition 
of the sight, and the perfect indifference with which it is regarded 
by the Parisians themselves, gradually efface the feehng of indeli- 
cacy which first arises. I would not speak positively upon a sub- 
ject so much a matter of taste, but laying prejudices aside, and 
viewing the thing in a rational and candid light, it may be fairly 
doubted whether, after all, the custom is so very reprehensible. 
The question will arise to an impartial mind, why it may be re- 
garded more immodest to reveal a neatly-laced ankle, enveloped 
in nice silk hose, when demanded by necessity, than to display 



CHAMBEE OF DEPUTIES. 159 



ostentatiously the arms and breast. The truth may be, that we 
are wont to decide upon forms of propriety, by some standard in 
our own mind, and this standard may be the result of little else 
than certain accidental conventionalisms. Il^othing is more com- 
mon for us, when abroad, than to decide upon things as they square 
with our preconceived notions. Thus, whether we judge aright or 
not, will depend upon the justness of our standard, and not upon 
the thing itself. Perhaps it would be a better rule to follow na- 
ture and common sense. Again, let us look through the medium of 
pure intention. An evil imagination will lend a coloring of debase- 
ment to the most simple act. Honni soit qui mal y pense, is a good 
motto. The lady of elevated taste, will be simple and natural, — 
avoiding on the one hand unnecessary display, and on the other, 
prudery. 

I made to-day an unsuccessful effort to gain admittance to the 
Chamber of Deputies, during a session of its members. The 
proper officers to whom I applied in person at the Palais Bourbon 
(which is the name of the edifice where the chamber is held), for 
a ticket of admission, informed me that I should address them in 
writing. On leaving, I noticed a long file of some fifty persons, 
making what the French term the queue, before the closed door at 
the east wing of the building. They were waiting with the hope 
of getting admittance to the free gallery of the chamber ; but as 
this accommodates but about twenty -five persons, it is not easy to 
see what rational hope the hindermost could have entertained 
of success, unless, indeed, they expected that some before them, 
weary of waiting, would leave before the hour for opening the 
door. The powerfully excited and deeply interesting state of the 
discussion upon the subject of foreign affairs, having fully aroused 
the highest talent of the Chamber, had lent great intensity to the 
desire, always strong, to witness the eloquent and thrilHng debates. 



160 CEESTS FROM THE CX^EAN-WORLD. 

The doors were to be opened at twelve o'clock, M., yet it was now 
only ten A. m. ; and some had been there, I was told, since eight 
in the morning, — so eager was the general desire for admission. 

The Chamber of Deputies, the popular branch of the Legisla- 
ture, was about the only public place difficult of access to a respect- 
able foreigner, in the French capital. The narrow gallery was 
always filled, when the debates were at all interesting, by a class 
of idlers who could aiFord to wait outside in the street some two 
or three hours. A few more persons were admitted by ticket, 
which was obtained on application to Messrs. the Questeurs at the 
Palais ; but the limited number thus favored, bore no proportion 
to the pressing applications. The Minister from your government 
had no power in the premises, except to loan you his own ticket 
to his private box. Hence, many who tarried but a short time in 
Paris, had to go away without having their desires in this particu- 
lar gratified. 

On my way, I looked into the Hotel des Invalids. Paris is mu- 
nificent in establishments of a benevolent character, — of asylums 
devoted to the support of the aged and infirm ; but by far the 
most important, both on account of the grandeur of its buildings, 
and the benefits which it confers upon its inmates, is the Hotel des 
Invalids. It is intended for the support of disabled officers and 
soldiers, or such as have been in active service upwards of thirty 
years. The institution supports, at present, upwards of five thou- 
sand of these scarred and disabled veterans, — fading mementos 
of the military glory of France. 

The edifice was erected in 1670, by that magnificent monarch, 
Louis XIV, who sought a building and institution worthy of his 
services, and the grandeur he wished to impress upon his reign. 
Kapoleon, whose mortal remains sleep beneath its gilded dome, 
changed, if I remember rightly, its original destination, and con- 



HOTEL DES INVALIDS. igi 



verted it into a hallowed home for the noble and brave whom 
Mars had spared the envious stroke of death in the gorj field of 
war. The luminous sagacity of the great captain could not but 
see how much of inspiration it would lend to the mihtary genius 
of the country, as well as aid to embalm his own memory in the 
gratitude of his soldiers, thus in providing for them a grand retreat 
to surround their declining years with a mellow halo of mild and 
awakening associations. 

It is a vast and splendid establishment, and is a conspicuous 
object from a distance, on account of its gilded dome, lantern, and 
spire, rising to the height of three hundred and twenty-three feet 
above the floor. It is situated on the south bank of the Seine, 
opposite the Champs Elysees, and the enclosure occupies some 
sixteen acres of ground. The immense esplanade in front of the 
Hospital, extending down to the Seine, is laid out with much taste 
with gravelled walks, trees, and shrubbery. The trees are so ar- 
ranged, that while they afford a most grateful promenade and 
shelter to the old soldiers, open a beautiful vista, through which is 
heightened the majesty of the edifice, — the whole facade of which 
is thus uncovered, and may be seen at a great distance. Boule- 
vards planted with trees surround the monument, where terminate 
in a focus four grand streets. A fountain of simple, but elegant 
construction, sports into the air several beautiful jets, in the midst 
of the esplanade, which is crossed by three streets leading to the 
military school, and to the Champs de Mars. The esplanade is 
separated from the first court by a fosse furnished with twelve 
pieces of cannon, in the midst of which a bridge, closed by a beau- 
tiful gate, gives entrance to the noble asylum of valor. The edi- 
fice is composed of five courts of equal form and size, surround(3d 
by buildings five stories in height, and covers a space of nearly 
seven acres. 

14* 



162 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

The cliurcli of the establishment is indebted for its noble ap- 
pearance, principally to its magnificent dome, supported by twenty 
pairs of composite pillars. It is considered the master-piece of 
French architecture, and is thought to rival in beauty — though 
of inferier proportions — the celebrated domes of St. Paul's in 
London, and St. Peter's at Rome. As it was undergoing repairs, 
I did not gain access to the interior of the dome. I could per- 
ceive, however, that it is undoubtedly very rich in architectural 
ornament, sculpture, painting, carving, and gilding ; yet, to my 
untutored eye, the dome appeared too elongated, and to have too 
much elevation, for the proportionate height of the main build- 
ings. 

The interior halls are named after the great battles of the em- 
peror, Austerlitz, Yv^agram, etc. The library is in the first stage 
of the pavilion, and commands a handsome view of the Champs 
Elysees and the Avenue de Neuilly. The interior of the build- 
ings is everywhere ornamented with statues, groups, antiques, 
bass-rehefs, paintings, — most of them having significant allusion 
to ideas of martial glory, or to the distinguished actors in the 
military history of the empire and the republic. The walls of the 
interior of the church were festooned with national flags wrested 
from the enemy in the astounding victories of the empire and the 
republic. Almost all the nations of Europe were represented by 
these fading testimonials of the national prowess. Many of them 
were tattered, thus faintly showing how desperate had been the 
struggle on the one part to retain, and on the other to bear off, as 
trophies of victory, these banners — not of love, good-will, and 
peace on earth, but of hatred, revenge, and direful carnage. 

The crowning-interest of this grand establishment is the tomb 
of Napoleon, in the chapel of St. Jerome. I was not permitted to 
visit the spot, where repose in the calm and severe dignity of 



HOTEL DES INVALIDS. 1^3 



death, — investing the immediate presence with a sublime awe, — 
the man who had broken up the despotic institutions of a thousand 
years, and changed the face of Europe and the world. 

Besides pensioned officers, there are sub-ofiicers and privates who 
are boarded, lodged and clothed, and receive a monthly stipend, va- 
rying according to rank. The dormitories contain each from fifty to 
sixty beds ; besides which, there are large infirmaries for the sick. 
Ail, except field-officers, mess at the public tables, and wear the 
same uniform. Dinner is served at twelve o'clock, m., a departure 
from the French custom. The dining-room was ample, the walls 
of which were handsomely painted in fresco ; but I was not per- 
mitted to inspect the cusine, on account of the inconvenience of 
the hour. 

The Hotel des Invalids is under the especial surveillance of the 
minister of war. A marshal of France commonly officiates as 
governor. The council of administration is composed of military 
officers of the highest grade, with eminent statesmen. The most 
skilful physicians of the army prescribe for such as may be sick, 
who are tended by the gentle and humane hand of the Sisters of 
Charity. 

The different inmates whom I met, in traversing the building, 
dispensed the usual civilities of courtesy, with a respectful but 
lofty bearing. They seemed impressed with a profound sentiment 
of the grandeur of that brilliant period in French history, of which 
they were the sad remaining vestiges. How could it have been 
otherwise ? For how full had been their experience of what lends 
intense force to the energy of the soul ? What scenes of subhme 
and awful reality had passed before their eyes to fill the page of 
reminiscences in the book of life ! And now, what visions of 
Austerlitz, Marengo, Borodino, etc., sifted with fiery vividness 
through their fading memories ! They had many of them wit- 



164 CHESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

nessed the rising majesty, tlie noon-day splendor, and the setting 
rays of that splendid meteor, which had intoxicated France with 
its glory, and flooded Europe with its dazzhng beams. And now 
they were guarding, with a sentiment of deep and pious reverence, 
the ashes of the sublime spirit who had been removed from his 
sea-girt prison to repose in the bosom of his own French people. 

From the Hotel des Invalids, I went to the Mihtary School. It 
was founded in 1751, by Louis XV, as an establishment of educa- 
tion, for the gratuitous instruction of five hundred poor gentlemen, 
the sons of deceased officers. They receive here, of course, a 
military education, and are especially trained in the spirited and 
graceful accomplishment of horsemanship. Its form is that of a 
parallelogram, occupying an area of fifteen hundred feet in length, 
and eight hundred in w^idth, and comprises six buildings, and fifteen 
courts and gardens. In the dome, crowning the edifice, is a clock 
supported by two figures. Time and Astronomy. There is also, 
m the establishment, an observatory. 

The Champ de Mars is a vast parallelogram of two thousand 
eight hundred and fifty feet in length, or more than half a mile ; 
and nine hundred and sixty-nine feet in width ; extending from 
the Military School to the banks of the Seine. The level surface 
is broken by no trees or shrubbery. It has served various pur- 
poses, and the spot brings up to the mind familiar with the history 
of Paris, some thrilling incidents in its eventful periods. It has 
Qot only been employed for the exercise and review of the pupils 
of the school, and the National Guards of the city, but it has 
served, at different times, for public fetes, and political gatherings. 
In the stormy days of the old revolution, it was the scene of many 
midnight orgies, as well as the rendezvous of many a foul plot, or 
demoniac machination. Here the first mayor of Paris lost his 
head, and other dark deeds of blood shade the memory of the place. 



EIN^DNESS OF A FEUIT-WOMAN. 165 

It is now used by the pupils of the school as a race-course, and for 
grand reviews. 

On my return, becoming embarrassed as to my route, I made 
inquiries of a woman tending a fruit-stand, at the corner of two 
streets. The good-hearted creature, not satisfied with pointing out 
to me my way, left her little bazaar with a lad, and actually accom- 
panied me at least a quarter of a mile, that I might be the morf>> 
sure of finding my place of destination. The pleasure of con- 
ferring a favor seemed to lend a glow and vivacity to her nature, 
and she chatted upon all subjects with the utmost simphcity and 
animation, evincing not unfrequently a degree of intelligence and 
discrimination far above her condition in life. Her kindness, 
natural manner, and spirituality of expression quite charmed me ; 
but her familiarity, in any other than a French Avoman, might have 
been misconstrued. While referring to the great number of 
strangers in Paris, she suddenly turned the question by saying, 
" But, sir, of what countiy are you, may I ask ? " You can, of 
course, very easily divine, replied I. Fixing a full, but placid 
look upon me for a moment, she suddenly burst out in a kind of 
good-natured petulance, declaring with emphasis, that I was really 
inexplicable, — that I certainly had the accent of an EngUshman, 
but the unmistakable features of an Italian. 

This woman was not at all singular in her manner, for a Paris- 
ian. The traits of character she displayed were such as are com- 
mon among the female populace. The stranger does not meet 
here with that affectation and reserve often found elsewhere ; on 
the contrary, all is simple, natural, and cordial. All the women 
among the lower orders of Paris, whom my business furnished a 
pretext to address (and I took particular pains to get the greatest 
possible number of examples), evinced, without a smgle exception, 
the same easy and unaffected style in their intercourse. They 



IQQ CRESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

would always enter into the very spirit of my demand with 
promptness, ardor, and apparent disinterestedness, and would even 
take special pains not only to furnish me with all the information 
in their power, about what I wished, but to render me such further 
aid as was possible. And this complaisance did not seem to arise 
from a calculated habit, or even from formal politeness, but ap- 
peared to spring from a natural spontaneity of goodness. If the 
conversation became discursive, she would roam with me, with 
great naturalness and vivacity of manner, broaching any subject, 
treating it "with perfect freedom, and never faihng to impart to it 
a peculiarly lively interest from the brilliant hues of her own 
mind. The different postures and movements of the body, and 
the expression of the countenance, were all free, open, and in 
keeping with the intellectual character. An American, accus- 
tomed to the staid, and almost prudish, deportment of his own 
fair countrywomen, is at first confounded at a style of manners so 
different ; but he cannot help but be in the main highly pleased 
with the change, and the new feature will be sure to improve 
upon acquaintance. The truth is, we cannot but love even 
the semblance of truthfulness and simplicity ; and nowhere are 
these traits so fascinating as in woman. I am not certain, how- 
ever, but that this freedom of manner would not more easily 
expose the female to rudeness with the unmannerly of the rougher 
sex, and that it would not tend to weaken the barriers which sur- 
round what is most lovely in woman. Modesty is, indeed, the 
priceless gem in the brilliants of woman's character, and we are 
wont to show the estimation in which we hold the valuable pearl, 
by hedging it in with what we call by different names, — such as 
prudent reserve, becoming dignity, unobtrusiveness, etc. ; but 
whether what is thus saved can compensate for what is lost by 
the degenerating of these quahties into a stiff, prim, and cold 



TRAITS OF FEMALE CHARACTER. i^ 

manner, lending a most uninteresting trait to tlie female cliaracter, 
I do not know ; but every one will agree, who has been favored 
with some observation in this matter, that perfect delicacy of 
modesty is often seen blended with simplicity, grace, and vivacity, 
— each heightening and beautifying the other. 



CHAPTER XV. 

PALACE OF THE LOUVRE — FORMER RICHNESS IN ART — THE 
COMMON MIND A JUDGE OF ART — CHARACTERISTICS OF THE 

SEVERAL SCHOOLS OF PAINTERS SUNDAY AT THE LOUVRE 

INFLUENCE OF THE ART UPON THE MASSES — SCULPTURE, 
PETRIFIED BEAUTY — MARINE MUSEUM — ROYAL INSTITUTION 
FOR THE BLIND — BENEFITS OF THE NOBLE SCHOOL — PRO- 
FESSOR-LECTURER OF CHEMISTRY — GARDEN OF PLANTS 

DESCRIPTION — ADULT AND JUVENILE EVENING SCHOOLS. 

The Palace of the Louvre, a magnificent edifice, the origin of 
which is unknown, was rebuilt from the ruins upon the spot, in 
1528, by Francis I, who ordered Peter Lescot to construct for 
him a palace worthy of a king of France, and of the century in 
which he lived. It was enlarged and improved by subsequent 
sovereigns, when Louis XI Y, wishing to- unite it with the Tuile- 
ries, invited the most skilful architects of Europe to furnish him 
with plans. None of the foreign nor the French architects who 
had accepted the invitation, were able to satisfy the luxurious 
.monarch. The cavalier Bernin, the most famous architect of 
Italy, was then called to Paris, but he was not more successfuL 
At length, the physician Claude Pernault proposed the present 
magnificent perystile, which is justly esteemed one of the most 
beautiful pieces of modern architecture. Its construction com- 
menced in 1666, and ended in 1670. 

The buildmg is quadrangular, enclosing a court of some four 
hundred by five hundred feet, which is entered from the east by a 



PALACE OF THE LOUVEE. Igg 



nibble portal. This front, five hundred and twentj-five feet long, 
is adorned with twenty-eight double Corinthian columns, and is 
indeed a fine specimen of architecture. The other sides of the 
quadrangle, both within and without, though less elegant, are very 
striking, both from their extent and their style. In the middle of 
the court, rises upon a pedestal of white marble, ornamented with 
two bass-reliefs, the equestrian statue in bronze, of the Duke of 
Orleans, eldest son of the late king Louis Phillippe. The prince 
holds his sword in the attitude of command, and the general air is 
lofty and imposing. 

The Louvre was formerly a kingly residence, but is now devo- 
ted to the royal museum of painting and sculpture, forming one of 
the most extensive collections in Europe. During the latter years 
of the reign of Napoleon, this gallery was the richest and most 
magnificent by far of any that has ever existed. It could then 
boast of the chefs-d'ceuvres of Kome, Florence, and, in fact, of the 
greater part of continental Europe, carried off by the conquering 
legions of France ; but victory having deserted the eagles of Na- 
poleon, these treasures were restored to their former possessors, 
and the Louvre has now no longer to glory in the Apollo Belvi- 
dere, the Venus di Medici, and other matchless productions. 
Still, the collection is a very extensive and noble one, and will 
richly reward the lover of art, in a visit thither. Eighteen large 
halls on the ground-floor, are filled with pieces of sculpture, in- 
cluding the choicest treasures of the Villa-Borghese, and many 
works that once embellished ancient Rome. Many of them are 
esteemed of great value. Five other rooms in the basement 
story, are devoted to the reception of works by modern artists. In 
1830, a large apartment was filled with a collection of Egyptian 
antiquities ; and there is now a large gallery called the Ilusee de 
la Ilarine, or the Marine Museum, comprismg models and sections 
15 



170 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

of vessels, plans of forts, and other curiosities. The great picture 
gallery, which is on the first floor, is approached by a grand stair* 
case, painted by native artists, and comprises a suit of nine apart- 
ments, — the walls of which are lined with upwards of fifteen 
hundred pictures belonging to the French, Flemish, Dutch, Italian, 
and Spanish schools of painting. The stranger at first saunters 
through these spacious and lofty rooms, with their richly frescoed 
ceiling, and amid such a profusion of the gems of art, in an en- 
tranced and bewildered state of mind. Intense anticipation now 
suddenly merged into the reahty, the glowing associations of the 
place, the inspiring agencies by which he is everywhere so thickly 
surrounded, hurry away the soul to a region beyond the confines 
of earth, while the vast multitude of subjects which burst upon 
the mind, completely distract the attention. It is thus only after 
repeated visits to this world of paintings, and a degree of famili- 
arity with its entrancing scenery, that the mind becomes sufficiently 
composed to study advantageously the individual works of great 
artists, or to compare faithfully their distinctive merits. It would, 
of course, be presumptuous in any but artists, or professed ama- 
teurs, to speak with lengthened criticism of master-paintings, es- 
pecially such as are met with in the noble collection of the Louvre. 
Yet, a novice in the sublime art, under the influence of natural 
emotions, and exercising the principles of common sense and com- 
mon observation, may venture to give the impressions which works 
of art make upon his mind, or indicate the emotions they give rise 
to in his breast. 

If the end of painting is to move, to vivify thought, to excite 
emotion ; and if the success of a production is measured by the 
force and felicity with which it seizes and excites the mind of the 
beholder, then may not even the uneducated in art, venture to 
pass an opmion upon the more obvious and striking features of a 



PAINTINGS IN THE LOUVEE. 171 



picture ? To be sure tliere will always be much about a painting 
beyond bis powers of appreciation, — nice principles of science, 
exquisite touches of art, etc. ; still, if the subject be within his 
understanding, and the thoughts it is calculated to awaken, such as 
find a response in his breast, may he not conclude with some assur- 
ance in regard to the success of the artist, by the agreeable effect 
of the pamting upon the mind ? The observer may not be able 
to analyze his sensations, or trace them to the spring of move- 
ment ; yet conscious of their possession, he will not doubt the power 
of the hand that gave them rise. This view may be illustrated 
by the peculiar nature of oratory. Here the speaker is deemed 
successful, in proportion as he carries conviction to the minds of 
his hearers, or moves their feelings ; while the latter judge of the 
power of the former by their emotions, without asking the cause. 
The auditors may not be able to enter into the minutiae of techni- 
cal grammar, rhetoric, figures of speech, or even analyze the dis- 
course ; still he judges, and at least with some general grounds of 
safety, of the merits of effort, by his own consciousness. 

It would be a futile effort to give a detailed account of the 
immense collection of the Louvre. A description, comprising the 
briefest account of each painting, would fill a large volume. With- 
out attempting, therefore, to enumerate the great works which are 
there to be met with, let me aim at only a delineation of the 
general character, by which the different schools of painting are 
distinguished. 

The first hall of the Louvre, in the picture gallery, is filled 
with paintings of the French school. The principal artists, whose 
works are here exhibited, are Nicholas Poussin, Claude Lorrain, 
Yernet, Le Brun, Gaspar, — and the modern painters, Gerard, 
David, Gros, Paul de Laroche, and Eugene Delacroix. The 
general character of the school of French historical painting, ia 



172 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the expression of passion and violent emotion. The coloring is 
for tlie most part brilliant ; the canvas crowded with figures, and 
the incident selected, such as would enable the painter to display, 
to the best advantage, his knowledge of the human frame, or the 
varied expression of the human countenance. The moment 
seized is uniformly that of the strongest and most violent passion ; 
the principal actors in the piece are represented in a state of 
phrenzied exertion, and the whole anatomical knowledge of the 
artist is displayed in the endless contortions into which the human 
frame is thrown. The French paintings, therefore, although they 
may produce a striking or dazzhng effect, at first, upon the mind, 
and may excite a degree of admiration ; still, they do not possess 
in the same degree as the master-pieces of some of the other 
schools, qualities which move deeply the feelings. 

The paintings of Poussin are distinguished for a classical ele- 
gance of style ; and those of Claude, for a perfection of coloring, 
which leaves nothing to be desired. Le Brun was the most dis- 
tinguished painter of the seventeenth century. His w^orks were 
characterized by ease and breadth of composition, and for re- 
markable grace and sweetness. Vernet stands high among French 
artists. His sea-pieces are truly admirable, both for the drawing, 
and for the feeling with which they are painted. The room which 
contains his " Sea Ports of France," is not one of the least at- 
tractive of the Louvre. He painted from nature, and though the 
subjects he chose w^ere not of a lofty kind, he has treated them 
wnth great simplicity and truth. His two pictures, Le Depart and 
Le Retour are full of pathos and beauty ; but for grace, and 
charm of coloring, what can rival that, knowai as the " Broken 
Pitcher ? " The fresh, rosy, and beaming countenance of that 
young girl can never be recalled without pleasure ; nor is it pos- 
sible to pass, however hurriedly, through the great gallery of the 



DISTINGUISHED PAINTEES. I73 

Louvre, without jDausing for a moment, to smile back upon that 
lovely and ingenuous face, as it smiles upon you from the canvas. 
The paintings of Vernet, in this collection, are perhaps the finest 
specimens of that beautiful master. There is a dehcacy of color- 
ing, a unity of design, and a harmony of expression in his works, 
which accord well with the simplicity of the subjects which his 
taste has selected, and the general effect which it was his object 
to produce. 

David was a distinguished painter, and the founder of a new 
school. Napoleon encouraged and liberally rewarded him. It 
was with the heroes of Greece and Rome that he covered his 
canvas; and the severe subjects he chose, he treated with charac- 
teristic sternness. To touch the softer emotions of the beholder, 
he never attempted. 

Gerard possessed, in a high degree, the art of coloring. His 
drawing, too, was generally correct and pure. His Cupid and 
Psyche are among his best pieces. The expression of the heads 
is charming; the coloring fresh, and agreeable, — and the attitudes 
extremely graceful. 

Gros is esteemed the greatest of the scholars of David. His 
portrait of Napoleon is much admired. The finest of his large 
paintings is the battle of Eylau. But the most important work of 
Gros, — because upon the largest scale, and in a public edifice, — 
is the Dome of the Pantheon, already mentioned in the descrip- 
tion of that splendid edifice. The death of this eminent artist, in 
1835, was a most melancholy one. Overwhelmed with disap- 
pointment and chagrin, he put an end to his existence by throwing 
himself into the Seine. With him died the last painter of the 
time of the empire. 

Paul Delaroche was the son-in-law of Horace Vernet. His 
works are numerous. All the subjects have been taken from 

15* 



174 CKESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD, 

modern, and many from English history. Among the latter, are 
the Death Scene of Queen Elizabeth, — a forcible illustration of 
vanity and royalty struggling with old age and death ; the terrible 
and touching scene of the Murder of the Princes in the Tower ; 
Charles I. insulted by the Guards ; Stratford on his way to the 
scaffold ; and the truly pathetic scene of Lady Jane Grey upon 
the scaffold. But of all his works, the one the most admired, is 
his Saint Ceciha playing on an organ held before her by an angel. 
This was made after his return from Italy, where he had been 
sent by the government of Paris to execute some paintings for 
the Madeline, — and the painting partakes much of the character 
of the Florentine school. The calm and heavenly beauty of the 
saint, with the simplicity and grace of her drapery, throws around 
the work exceeding beauty. It shows, too, that the French are 
capable of expressing high delicacy of sentiment. 

Eugene Delacroix is a painter of great originality and powerful 
imagination ; his colormg is vigorous and effective. An admirable 
specimen of his talent may be seen in the gallery of the Luxem- 
bourg. It is his " Dante and Virgil, conducted by Flegias, crossing 
the lake which surrounds the infernal city of Dite." Another is 
Cleopatra, the fair Egyptian queen. But his most important 
work is at the Chamber of Peers, where he painted the Cupola 
of the Library. 

You come next to the Dutch and Flemish school, which is dis- 
tinguished by a character of a different description. The well 
known object of this school was to present an exact and fliithful 
imitation of Nature. They did not pretend to aim at the exhibi- 
tion of passion, or powerful emotion; nor was it their object to re- 
present deep scenes of sorrow or suffering which accord with 
profound feelings. They selected as subjects the ordinary scenes 
and occurrences of life ; and the power of the painter was seen 



DISTINGUISHED PAINTERS. 175 

in the exactness of the imitation, and the minuteness of finishino-. 
Of this class of painters, in particular, were Teniers, Ostade, and 
Gerard Dow. There is a verj great collection here preserved 
of the justly celebrated Rembrandt. 

There are forty pieces of the Wouvermans here, all in a fine 
state of preservation. The works of this artist are generally 
crowded with figures ; his subjects are commonly battle-pieces, or 
spectacles of military pomp, or the animated scenes of the chase; 
and he seems to have exhausted all the efforts of his genius in 
the variety of incident and richness of execution which these 
subjects are fitted to afford. These paintings are certainly beauti- 
ful ; and it is almost impossible, without having seen them, to get 
an idea of the variety of design, the accuracy of drawing, or dehcacy 
of finishing which distinguish his works from those of any other 
painter whatever. 

There is a large number of the paintings of Vandyke and 
Reubens. There are sixty pictures of the latter of these masters, 
in the Louvre ; and, combined with the celebrated gallery in the 
Luxembourg, they form the finest assemblage of them to be met 
with in the world. The character of his works differs essentially 
from that of both the French and Dutch school. He was em- 
ployed, for the most part, in designing great altar pieces for splen- 
did churches, or commemorating the glory of sovereigns in imperial 
galleries. The greatness of his genius rendered him fit to attempt 
the representation of the most comphcated and difficult subjects. 
But in aiming to tell a whole story in the expression of a single 
picture, he attempts what it is impossible for painting to accom- 
plish. The endless power of creation which this splendid genius 
possessed, is seen in the multiphcity of figures which crowd the 
canvas. 

It is in the Italian school, however, that the collection of thf 



176 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

Louvre stands most unrivalled. The general object of this school 
appears to be the expression of passion. Their pieces are mostly 
of a religious character, in which are touchingly portrayed the 
sufferings and death of our Savioui', — the varied misfortunes to 
which his disciples were exposed, or the multiplied persecutions 
which the early fathers had to sustain. They aim to awaken 
pity or sympathy in the spectator. 

There are a great many of the works of Dommichino, and of 
the Caraccis, in the collection. They bear a dark and gloomy 
character, and are designed to express deep and profound sorrow. 

Guido Reni, Carlo Maritti, and Murillo, have a general charac- 
ter, but somewhat different from Dominichino and the Caraccis. 
They have limited themselves, in general, to the delineation of a 
single figure, or a small group, in which, by a subdued tone of 
coloring, are expressed emotions of a softer and more permanent 
kind. 

The distinctive feature in the small number of the paintings 
by Salvator Rosa, is a wild and original expression. In some 
of his pieces there is a sullen magnificence combined with splen- 
did ideality, which mark the profound poetical genius. 

But the softer expression of Correggio is quite different. Ten- 
derness and delicacy are his prevailing qualities, and there is a 
softness in his shading of the human form, which is entu'ely un- 
rivalled. He has represented nature in its most pleasing aspect, 
and enrobed individual figures with all the charms of ideal beauty. 

The single picture by Carlo Dolci, in the Louvre, is in itself a 
gem, and alone is sufficient to mark the genius of its author. It 
represents the Holy Family, with the Saviour asleep. The deli- 
cacy and softness of shading exceeds even Correggio himself, while 
there is a deep, spiritual beauty pervading the whole, beyond the 
power of language to describe. The sleep of the infant is per- 



FEEE ACCESS TO THE LOUVRE. I77 

fection itself; it is the deep and tranquil sleep of youtli and inno- 
cence, subdued by a holy and angelic calm, unspeakably beautiful. 

The works of Raphael aim at the expression of a subhme feel- 
ing, and they possess a high tone of spirituality rarely reached by 
the efforts of other artists. In his larger pieces, as in the Trans- 
figuration, the effect is often injured by the confused expression 
of varied figures ; but in his smaller pictures, the genuine charac- 
ter of his transcendent genius fully appears. 

The Louvre is free to the public on Sundays, from ten a. m. till 
four p. :m. It is likewise open to artists on week-days, between 
the same hours, and to strangers, on the presentation of then- pass- 
ports. 

On Sundays, the halls never fail of being thronged with visit- 
ors. All classes may then be seen promiscuously sauntering 
through the splendid rooms. You will be jostled on one side by 
a fine lady, and on the other by a dusty workman in his dingy 
blouse and wooden shoes. The remark applies equally to other 
like places. Here, the humblest may have free access to the pub- 
lic gardens, palaces, buildings, repositories of art and science, — 
and the humblest make use of the munificent privilege. This 
having the grand and beautiful continually before them, has the 
sensible effect to elevate and refine their taste and manners, and 
to spiritualize their whole nature. Its influence upon their char- 
acter may be seen in the elegance of the dress of the Parisian, 
and in his polished and graceful manners. Its deeper influence 
lays the foundation for that ardent attachment to the institutions 
and glory of France, which is the vital part of a Frenchman's 
character. 

On week-days, as I have already intimated, there were in the 
gallery of paintings, artists, either making complete copies of some 
of the pictures upon the walls before them, or sketching off rv\^)x 



178 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

drafts, to be filled up at a future time, thousands of miles, perhaps, 
away. It was interesting to watch the expressive countenances 
of these young aspirants, in the difficult path of their art. On 
their faces varied emotions were, by turns, legible, according as, 
by a happy touch of their pencil, they had embodied a beautiful 
conception, or when the stubborn material refused to give forth the 
thought. 

The halls of sculpture are on the ground-floor. You experience 
a sudden elevation of feeling, as you contemplate these "gems of 
heathen eloquence. Here remain in a fixed and eternal repose, 
the sublimest expression of human character. Petrified beauty 
pei-petually beams from those divine forms, to animate and delight. 
You cannot but reverence the geniuses that could breathe so much 
life and grace into the inanimate marble ; that could give such 
expression to inert material, that nothing but breath seems want- 
ing. The fleshy roundness of those limbs, the ease and flow of 
that dress, with its delicate waving, partly chnging to the body, 
partly fluttering in the wind ; that delicate balance which alarms 
with the expectation of movement ; those inimitable features strip- 
ped of everything gross and earthly, and beaming with the most ce- 
lestial beauty, entrance the soul in a feeling of wonder and delight. 
In gazing upon these symbols of purified thought, we are re- 
minded of the Spartan prayer, " Give us what is good and what 
is beautiful." Indeed, beauty ever excites religious emotions. 

A marked difference between painting and sculpture is, that the 
latter, with the exception of a few pieces — such as the Dying 
Gladiator and the Lao coon, exclude all passion and even emotion, 
and represent the human mind in a state of tranquillity and re- 
pose. The figures seem to be more than mortals, and to indicate 
a state in which the unruffled repose of mind has moulded the 
features into the perfect expression of the mental character. 



PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 179 



They seemed possessed of tliat permanent inward joj and love- 
liness which cast an everlasting sunshine and beauty around, — 
that radiance of immortal Hfe which breathes an eternal happiness. 

Another difference between painting and sculpture, consists in 
the universality of the latter. It is completely divested of the 
pecuharity of the schools. The statues of antiquity were ad- 
dressed to the multitude of the people, and were intended to 
awaken devotion in all classes. They possess, in consequence, a 
general character, and speak directly to the common heart. 
Hence the adrnkation for this kind of art, which has survived the 
lapse of time. 

To communicate thought and emotion, the art of printing has 
long since taken the place, in a great measure, of painting and 
sculpture ; still, so long as a love of the beautiful exists in the 
human breast, these divine arts will continue to be cherished. 
They serve to embody thoughts which language has not power to 
utter ; they convey lessons of wisdom and virtue to the ignorant ; 
and without their aid, many a noble deed or heroic act would 
Jiardly have reached posterity. 

I was much interested in the collection in the Musee de la Ma- 
rine. You there see drawings of ships, sails, masts, and every- 
thing connected with naval affairs. Besides, there are exquisite 
models of all forms of vessels, French and foreign, from the full- 
rigged ship down to the smallest craft, exhibiting the different 
kinds of naval architecture in every stage of the process of con- 
structing the vessel. The different improvements or changes that 
have been made from time to time, were here all curiously exhib- 
ited to view. Here, too, are models of the principal towns con- 
taining maritime arsenals ; and one can see L'Orient, Rochefort, 
and Brest, without the trouble of going there. There is in this 
museum, a fine series of busts of French naval commanders. 



IgO CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WJRLD. 

The Louvre is the grand central point of art in France, and is, 
indeed, rich beyond conception. It stands out in rehef from the 
numerous other collections in Paris and other parts of France, 
and, indeed, Continental Europe, like a sun, diffusing light and 
radiance. The numerous grand historical facts, the many touch- 
ing incidents, and the abundance of thoughts and ideas which are 
here displayed, and which may be daily read, constitute the Louvre 
a grand and splendid book, unexpressively rich in whatever ele- 
vates and refines the soul ; and its freedom of access to the masses 
of the people, cannot but render it an ever-acting and powerful 
means in forming the taste and giving complexion to the thought 
of the Parisian. 

On Wednesday, Feb. 2d, I visited some of the Primary Schools 
of the city. The Frere who conducted the first at which I called, 
received me with the kind and polite manner invariable with that 
remarkable rehgious community ; but as it was the day for reli- 
gious instruction, he pointed out to me another school near, of a 
similar grade, and sent one of his pupils to accompany me thither. 
There I remained the half day, unusually interested. The read- 
in «• here was much better than in most of the other schools of this 
class, but still, enough defective. They went through a spelling 
exercise somewhat novel to me. The lesson consisted of printed 
sentences, which were dictated by the teacher, then written by 
the pupil, and afterwards spelled orally by the latter. In each 
lesson, some one principle of grammar was exemplified, and the 
word in which it occurred, was printed in italics. The pupil was 
required to state the reason for his choice of writing the word as 
he spelled it. The exercise struck me favorably, as being well 
calculated to lead the pupil gradually into the grammar and phi- 
losophy of the language, while he was gaining a practical knowl- 
edo;e of the form of words. The order in neither school was re- 



INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND. 131 

markably good. The former consisted of two hundred pupils, 
with two teaohers ; and the same in the latter. Thej were not 
conducted on the mutual-principle system. 

In the afternoon, I visited for the second time the Royal Insti- 
tution for the Bhnd. I was immediately admitted into the recep- 
tion-room, in which were several strangers in waiting, — and 
among them, an intelligent German traveller. The director of 
the establishment soon made his appearance, and immediately 
took us over the entire institution, explaining only when called 
upon, and then in a manner so quiet and taciturn, as to show that 
the exercise to him was a duty rather than a pleasure. He was 
not, however, permitted the indulgence of his disposition to silence, 
— for our German companion, who seemed to be particularly in. 
quest of information, and pertinaciously bent on learning every- 
thing to be known about the school, with pencil and note-book in 
hand, phed the director so rapidly and constantly with questions, 
as to leave the latter barely time to take a long breath. All well- 
educated Germans speak the French language fluently, — and I 
was forcibly struck with the greater ease with which I understood 
the German than the Frenchman, owing, doubtless, to the more 
distinct utterance of the former, and to his native accent corres- 
ponding more nearly to the English than that of the French. 

Institutions had long existed for the employment of the blind; 
but no effort seems to have been made for their instruction, until 
Hauy, of Paris attempted it, in 1781. The effort was crowned 
with complete success, and this unfortunate class of people are 
now taught reading, writing, and ciphering ; the mathematics, va- 
rious languages, geography, and music. In the last branch, they 
are particularly successful. 

The present edifice was recently put up, and is a noble and 
beautiful one, comprising the improvements in school-house archi- 

16 



132 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



lecture and appointments. It contains two hundred pupils, of both 
sexes, who are permitted to remain eight years. Besides the 
branches, they are taught various mechanical employments, as 
a means of pecuniary support. We were interested in examining 
the different articles of handicraft, in the exhibition-room, made 
by the pupils, — and particularly, to witness them at work in the 
fabrication of articles, both useful and ornamental, in which they 
showed a degree of cleverness and skill really surprising to any 
one not aware how one sense may be made to take upon itself the 
natural use of another. Many of the more curious and elaborate 
of the finished pieces, that we examined, bore the most scrutinizing 
test that we could apply, and were, in every way, so far as we 
could judge, as neatly and perfectly finished as if made by the 
most accomplished artisans. We each, of course, purchased some 
little article to take away, as a memento of the noble and interest- 
ing school. 

We were shown the neat and beautiful chapel in which they 
are wont to assemble to express their feeble adoration and grati- 
tude to the Author of so many and tender mercies. We passed, 
also, into the Salle a manger or dining-room. It was ample, and 
displayed almost perfect neatness. The tables were of marble, 
and everything else was in the same costly, and substantial style. 
Many, if not most of the teachers are graduates of the institution, 
thus proving that, in the opinion of the intelligent faculty which 
has the care of this eminent institution, the more gifted of the 
blind, when well instructed, are equally competent and successful 
teachers as the seeing. 

In the workshops, several laborers occupied the same room, and 
were permitted, in a moderate degree, the interchange of thought 
and sentiment ; but such as were practising their lessons in music 
were confined, each in a separate apartment; an arrangement 



EMPLOYMENT OF THE BLIND. I33 

laforable to acquiring that concentration of mental power, and 
delicacy of perception so indispensable to reaching great excellence 
in the sublime art of music. We were permitted to peep into these 
narrow and imperfectly lighted practising rooms through a little 
glass window in the upper part of the door ; and we could not but 
be struck with the energy and apparent devotion with which they 
were practising upon the parts which had been assigned them as 
lessons. Apparently they could not have been more earnest if 
stimulated with the hope of winning, one day, the applause of the 
great world. Did such an idea enkmdle their ardor ? or was it 
the more natural and immediate influence of that glorious princi- 
ple of the human mind, which loves to overcome difficulties, — 
heightened by the inspiring tones of the breathing instruments ? 
As we passed along by the rooms arranged consecutively on either 
side, the sounds from the different instruments, such as pianos, 
violins, flutes, etc., came rolling down the long and narrow aisle, 
in mingled and confused movement, it is true, — but they fell upon 
my own ear most gratefully, both as awakening pleasing recol- 
lections of delightful friends at home, of the same unfortunate 
class as the inmates of this school ; and as giving rise in my 
breast to thoughts of noble and generous pride at the splendid 
triumphs of human art, and the exhibition of God-like benevo- 
lence of which this institution is so grand and beautiful an illustra- 
tion. Those tones, drawn from humble instruments of mere 
mechanical contrivance, seemed to issue directly from the deep 
and living recesses of an inward world, — from a world of thought, 
of sentiment, of emotion, where gladsome spirits, cut off from the 
distracting beauties of external nature, were revelling in the am- 
brosial fields of a purely spiritual existence. And who shall con- 
fidently assert that the touching deprivation of the inmates of this 
Bchool will, after all, prove to them a state of comparative greater 



X84 CEESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



unliappiness ? Their case, viewed in connection with the grand 
principle of compensation which evidentlj runs through nature, — 
equahzing the real condition of mankind, — assumes an aspect 
more favorable to them. They are, indeed, separated from very 
many delightful sources of enjoyment from the world without, but 
may they not be compensated for this loss, at least in a great 
measure, by keener inner susceptibilities. They are certainly 
spared many scenes, which, while they rend with anguish the 
spirit, blunt the finer susceptibilities, as well as removed from 
much of low and obscene, to tarnish the purity of the soul ; and 
when with a duly cultivated moral and intellectual nature, they 
possess that source of light and beauty within, — that everlasting 
sunshine which can be thro^Ti on everything around, till it reflects 
on them w^hat has beamed from their own serene heart, and with- 
out which the gorgeous beauties of glorious nature are a meaning- 
less picture, and life, a plattitude of insipidities, — their condition 
may certainly 'be favorably compared with the generality of the 
human race. It is a point of opinion that hardly admits of doubt, 
that many a clear-sighted man would have his mental vision im- 
proved by spending some portion of his time in a retirement, in 
which the soul is driven back to observe its own operations, and 
seek improvement and enjoyment from its own resources. It 
would serve, like Crusoe's desolate island, to develop powers and 
elicit feelings of which he was not before conscious. 

The pupils whom we saw, were clean in person and neat in 
dress, and appeared cheerful and happy, showing that that agreea- 
ble state of the mind which philosophers call happiness, does not 
depend upon circumstances of life. 

I passed down into the basement-story under the edifice, in com- 
pany with the German companion, conducted by the ^reman of 
the gloomy precincts, to see how the grand establishment was 



SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. ^35 

heated, and supplied with warm water. Seven largo furnaces 
were in constant and active operation, and the entire apparatus, 
which was minutely explained to us, seemed admirably adapted 
to the end for which it was arranged. Indeed, there seemed to 
have been spared no expense to impart to the entire establishment 
all the advantages which science, art, and benevolence could be- 
stow; and I felt on leaving, an involuntary admiration for the en- 
larged benevolence of a people who could have first put in 
successful operation, and have ever since sustained so completely, 
so eminently a wise and humane institution. 

Feb. 3d. I made a visit to the school of Medicine, at the Sar- 
bonne. The lecture was on chemistry. I found the room, — 
which was circular, with seats gradually rising in an amphitheatri- 
cal form, — filled with students, a little impatient for the com- 
mencement of the lecture. There might have been an audience 
of six hundred. The professor, a middle-aged man, presently 
entered, with a brisk gait, and immediately commenced speaking. 
On his appearance, there was a momentary suppressed applause, 
when all was perfect stillness, which continued during the entire 
lecture, excepting when the professor indulged in a sa^Y^ie d'humeur, 
when there would be a shght relaxation for a moment only, as all 
seemed disposed not to lose a word. The students remained cov- 
ered, and with their port-folios upon their knees, before them, 
were busily taking notes. A long counter before the lecturer 
was filled with glasses and various pieces of chemical appa- 
ratus, and elements for combination, while behind him stood a 
large frame in which slid up and down in grooves, and by means 
of pullies, black-boards arranged behind each other, upon which 
the eminent j)rofessor wrote his theory by means of symbols. He 
spoke without notes, in a fluent, easy, and graceful manner, and 
was evidently perfectly master of his subject. A shght steppiB g 
16* 



X86 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

to and fro, with moderate gesticulation, gave a pleasing animation 
to liis manner. He was attended with several assistants, who, 
disposed on either side of him, performed all the experiments. It 
was remarkable with what adroitness these manipulators per- 
formed their parts, managing to have the experiment come off in- 
variably, just in the nick of time. The professor would talk 
rapidly on, apparently without the slightest thought of the experi- 
menter, and at the time he would say " There, gentlemen, you 
perceive," and on the last word, the phenomenon would burst to 
view, just as if connected with it by the law of affinity. There 
was not a mistake ; no repeating, no blundering, and never a 
moment's hesitation. If it all had been guided by the most sys- 
tematic mechanism, it could not have been more exact and sure. 
Several gentlemen accompanied the professor, and remained seated 
by the side of him uncovered, — friends or acquaintances present, 
doubtless by invitation. The lecture I listened to, was one of a 
course of public lectures which come off here every winter, and 
which are entirely free to everybody. It is a single department 
of the school of Medicine, a branch of the University of Paris, 
the great central establishment of education in France. The 
number of regularly-entered students in medicine is upwards of 
two thousand, besides such as do not choose to be put uj)on the 
list. Examinations are publicly held four times a year, under four 
jorofessors appointed by the Academic Council. The examination 
of each candidate must last at least one and a half hours, but may 
be protracted at the pleasure of the professors. All the higher 
degrees are granted only after severe trials, and numerous candi- 
dates are annually rejected. 



TOMBS AND STATUES. 137 



GAKDEN OF PLANTS. 



I left for tlie last time this noble enclosure. One at all gifted 
with an appreciation of Nature, and imbued in the least with the 
spirit of revelling amid its endless varieties and matchless perfec- 
tions, would wish to linger here forever. It is not only an exten- 
sive volume of animated nature, but it is a world of nature in 
miniature. It embraces a condensed view of the three kingdoms, 
Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral ; and so extensive is the collec- 
tion, that there is scarcely an individual species known in the 
three grand compartments of creation but that may not here be 
found ; and all so exactly classified and beautifully arranged, as to 
present almost at a single glance the wonderful and endless riches 
of the entire domain of fruitful Nature. 

It would be tedious to recount the history of this grand institu- 
tion, from its foundation by Louis XIII, in 1626, up to the present 
summit of perfection. The history of the men whose labors have 
enriched it, and whose names and statues adorn it, is the history 
of the natural sciences for the last two hundred years. Little did 
the monarch imagine when he doled out a few acres of useless 
land for a museum with only three professors, that he was prepar- 
ing a magnificent temple for the wonders of nature, — a temple 
destined to become not only one of the principal ornaments of the 
capital, but an honor to France and even the entire world. 

The garden, consisting of thirty-three hectares of ground, lies 
on the south side of the river, near the bridge of Austerlitz. As 
you enter by the northeastern gate, the splendid enclosure pre- 
sents you the view of a large grove divided into four parts by 
three avenues running its whole length. The space contains a 
Menagerie, a Botanical Garden, with hot-houses, a Museum and 
Library of Natural History, a Museum of Comparative Anatomy, 



X88 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



a Museum of Mineralogy and Geology, and an Ampliitlieatre 
with laboratories and apparatus of every possible description for 
public lectures. The lectures are delivered by an attached corps 
of thirteen professors, comprising the most distinguished men in 
the kingdom, and are perfectly open and gratuitous. The whole 
establishment is maintained at the expense of the government, at 
an annual cost of about sixty thousand dollars ; and it gives em- 
ployment to one hundred and sixty persons. 

The Menagerie is avowedly the largest in Europe, and the most 
complete in its arrangements. It alone requires the space of 
about twenty-four acres ; and the surface, which is perfectly level 
by the side of the amphitheatre, varied pleasingly in the middle 
by inequalities, and terminating upon the quay in an embank- 
ment, communicates vnth the garden by three fine entrances. The 
tame animals are kept in fourteen parts, — six at the east of 
the building, called the Eotunda, and eight at the east towards 
the Seine. Each of these is again subdivided into as many smal- 
ler compartments as the establishment contains different species. 
To each park is annexed a building conformable to the instinct 
and mode of life of the animal, into which it may retire at pleas- 
ure. Nothing can be more picturesque than this site ; a move- 
ment of surface ever varying, heightened by the unique and 
fanciful cottage homes which adorn and variegate the entire enclos- 
ure. It would be impossible to enumerate all the species of tame 
animals and reptiles ; but suffice it to say, that you can scarcely 
realize that you have directly before you all the various animals, 
and more, about which you have read, or seen in pictures, which 
you may now scan, and whose very habits you may now observe 
at leisure. Here you see an alpaca, remarkable for the length 
and fineness of liis wool ; and a little further, an African sheep, 
with a long tail ; again, you meet with the goat of Tartary, India, 



MUSEUM OF NATUEAL HISTORY. Igg 

and Upper Egypt, besides different species of Europe. Near 
them is a Mexican lama. Besides these ah-eady enumerated, are 
giraffes, elephants, camels, zebras, deer, antelopes, ostriches, cas- 
sowaries, etc. 

Towards the Seine, is a Menagerie for wild beasts, composed 
of twenty-one enclosures. There may be seen several species of 
bears, a jaguar, lions, hyenas ; but the most curious is the black 
panther. 

The palace of the lions forms a range of strong cabins, divided 
longitudinally into two sets of apartments, — the inner being ap- 
propriated for the feeding and rest of the beasts ; and the 
outer being strong cages, defended by iron bars in front, where 
the animals sun themselves. The large family of monkeys are 
appropriately provided for in a stone edifice, which has in front a 
circular cage of some fifty feet in diameter, where these mischie- 
vous and tricky animals can remain during night or day, in cold 
or rainy weather. It is warmed in the winter, and being provided 
with galleries, ropes, and ladders, affords opportunity for these 
singular creatures to exhibit themselves much to the amusement 
of the crowd. In the palace of the Birds of Prey are specimens 
of every variety of eagles, hawks, and vultures, with some others. 
In other enclosures may be seen the gallinaceous birds, the aqua- 
tic birds, and a great variety of other families. There are 
enclosures for the various species of reptiles. You almost tremble 
to see several species of serpents, coiling around each other in 
loving embrace, with their fiery forked tongues in quick and me- 
nacing movement, or, peradventure, the great anaconda or boa- 
constrictor, with a slow and majestic movement, basking his huge 
body in the sun. 

The Museum of Natural History is contained in a long range 
of buildinsrs three stories hish. A detailed account of this vast 



190 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

collection, in whicli almost every class of living beings has its 
representative preserved, would fill volumes. The interior of the 
building is divided into six halls in the first stage, five in the 
second. In the first are the reptiles and fish ; in the second, the 
quadrupeds, insects, and shell-fish. 

The collection of fish comprises about five thousand individuals, 
and about half that number of species. They are preserved with 
an art so exquisite, as to leave in perfection their exterior form, 
thus revealing how well the Creating Hand knew to vary his 
gifts. In the midst of this world of wonders, is the statue of 
BufFon, the great French naturalist. It is draped in an ordinary 
loose dress, standing, in the act of writing on a tablet resting upon 
a terrestrial globe. His head is turned away from the tablet, and 
he seems intently examining the objects around. Under and 
about his feet are the head of a lion, a dog asleep, a serpent, some 
marine productions, and a large group of rock crystals. The 
observer is at once favorably struck with the happy conception of 
the artist, in combining with the individual traits of the eminent 
naturalist, the noble thought of representing the minister and in- 
terpreter of nature ; and he reads upon the pedestal the fitting 
memorial of BufFon : Majestati Naturce par Ingenium. Pajon, 
the sculptor, is considered as eminently fortunate in delineating 
the features and portraying the expression of the great man, to 
be transmitted to future generetions ; but Buffon was as great a 
writer as naturalist, and he who felt that the style is the man, will 
survive in his immortal writings, the mouldering atoms of tablet 
or marble. He lives there, and will live, so long as shall exist 
the French language, and the works of nature which lent inspi- 
ration to his thoughts. His works themselves are a much fitter 
eulogy than the inscription upon the pedestal of his effigy. 

TIwJ most brilliant part of the Museum is in the second story. 



MUSEUM OF MINEEALOGY AND GEOLOGY. 191 

Five thousand mammalia, forming as many species, appear undei 
their natural colors ; in their distinctive features are revealed 
their natural instincts ; upon their varied mien are imprinted theii 
qualities or powers ; their forms, even, are admirably adapted to 
the circumstances of the country which produced them, and to 
their dispositions, whether mild or malevolent. The soul ir lolun- 
tarily bows in humble adoration to the energy and creative power 
of such wonders. It experiences the same sentiment, in a more 
lively degree perhaps, in viewing a variety not less astonishing, 
both in configuration and color, of six thousand individuals and 
two thousand three hundred species of birds. What exquisite 
richness of plumage have they ! Every color, — the purest gold, 
silver, azure, rouge, and green, is reflected from their glossy 
feathers with a brilliancy and lustre inimitable. 

The museum of mineralogy and geology is beyond all question 
the richest in the world. In the middle of the gallery extends 
throughout its entire length a series of glass cases, in which are 
admirably arranged all the minerals which form the crust of the 
earth, classed according to their age and formation. These cases 
form, thus to speak, so many archives, in which are inscribed the 
series of all the revolutions of the terrestrial globe. Here was 
a crystal of quartz three feet in diameter ; beryls, ten inches ; am- 
monites, eighteen to twenty inches ; and many beautiful specimens 
of fossil fish, from one to three feet long, in some of which, not 
only the size and shape, but also the color of the scales, was dis- 
tinctly discernible. 

In the intervals may be seen magnificent marble tables in mo- 
saic, comprising specimens of the various kinds of marble any 
where found. Upon one of them is a huge stone which fell at 
some time, from the upper regions ; also an enormous mass of 
iron-ore of the same origin. 



X92 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

In the middle of the hall is a noble statue of the illustrious 
Cuvier. It will be remembered that at an early age, the eminent 
man was called to Paris to fill the professorship of Comparative 
Anatomy, and soon attained the highest distinction as a naturalist. 
The Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy formed wholly by him, 
and his various other works on natural history, form an imperish- 
able monument of his genius. Cuvier was a protestant and Chris- 
tian, and it was delightful to see in the labors which constituted 
the basis of his fame, none of those elements of fragility which 
mark the conclusion of science when opposed to the works of 
God. The statue stands on a base about five feet high, in his or- 
dinary dress as lecturer, his left hand resting on a globe, the fore- 
finger pointing into the interior, as if directing attention to 
some internal phenomenon, while the right hand is raised up 
nearly in a line with the face, as if in the act of explaining it. 
On one side of the pedestal is his name ; and on another in a 
unique inscription, a list of his different publications. It is highly 
appropriate. His works do indeed praise him. 

The Aluseum of Comparative Anatomy is in a building to the 
west of the enclosure. It was commenced in 1775, by Dauben- 
ton, guided by the profound genius of Cuvier, who knew equally 
well to discover truth, or perceive her intimate relations, or give 
embodiment to her hidden mysteries in the noble form of speech. 
The specimens are grouped so as to present the common resem- 
blances on which the divisions into genera are founded, and the 
particular differences of species at one view, affording great fa- 
cilities for study and comparison. The specimens are preserved 
with infinite art by the injection of fluid into their minutest art- 
eries ; and not only is the human organization compared with that 
of diverse animals, but the different races are compared with each 
other ; such as the European, Tartar, Chinese, New Holland, 



MUSEUM OF COMPAEATIVE ANATOMl' I93 

Negi'o, Hottentot, several savage tribes of America, and ancient 
Egyptian mummies. You are struck with the resemblances and 
diversities. There is also a large collection of monsters and lusus 
naturce. The wax preparations are numerous. There is a room 
expressly devoted to craniology, in which plaster models of skulls 
are arranged with such taste and skill as would delight a phrenolo- 
gist. You proceed from surprise to surprise through the fifteen 
halls of which the cabinet is composed, which contains more than 
fifteen thousand anatomical specimens, and the collection is rapidly 
increasing. 

The collection in the vegetable kingdom is immense, and the 
classification and arrangement into orders, genera and species are 
astonishing and beautiful. Near the library building is a laro-e 
ciquare filled with trees, that burst their fohage in the spring, sep- 
arated from others merely ornamental in the summer. A second 
walk, bordered by maple trees, separates a rich group of autumnal 
fruit-trees, and these, in turn, are separated from a grove of ever- 
greens. Further on, is a space appropriated for the culture of 
culinary vegetables ; then comes the school for plants of domestic 
economy, such as are used for the subsistence of man, animals, or 
employed in the arts. In the first parterre, situated in the inter- 
val of the broad walks, extending opposite the galleries, are first, 
flowers, and perennial plants ; then, in an enclosure accessible by 
means of iron gates, exotic trees, and especially such as are resin- 
ous, which are undergoing a process of acclimation. In the mid- 
dle of this is a beehive, and then a school for the cultivation of 
flowers. Several square plots, in the vicinity, are used for the 
cultivation of medicinal flowers. The entire interval extending 
to the right of the broad walk, bordered with lindens to the Swiss 
valley, is devoted to the study of six thousand species or varieties 
of fruit-trees growing on the French soil. A little further on is 

17 



194 CKESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the Botanic school, or seven thousand plants arranged according 
to the natural method of Jussieu. Each is labelled according to 
its name, family, and class. 

Besides these are extensive hot-houses, in which are beautifully 
arranged every species of exotic plant that requires a warmer 
climate than that of Paris. The array here presented is actually 
overpowering, and the mind is staggered under such a wilderness 
ot vegetable wonder and beauty. 

All the ground not actually appropriated for a specific scientific 
purpose, is delightfully embelhshed with trees, shrubs, plants, 
flowers, or broad and well gravelled walks, to charm and delight 
you at every step. The natural inequalities of the ground are 
preserved, in order to present the greatest possible variety, and it 
is so adorned as to exhibit the wildness and luxuriance of nature, 
heightened by the gilding hand of art. 

You pass on to the upper garden, through enclosures of fruit- 
trees and hot-beds, towards the rising gi^ounds, on which are 
erected the magnificent conservatories. Between these, is a path 
leading to a httle elevation, called the Labyrinth, on the ascent of 
which is a noble Cedar of Lebanon, four feet in diameter at the 
base, which was planted here more than a century ago by the cel- 
ebrated Bernard de Jussieu, who brought it from England. It is 
a beautiful tree, and appears not unworthy to be the emblem of 
the majesty of Israel. Not far from the cedar is the tomb of 
Daubenton, who devoted more than fifty years of his calm 
and laborious life to the study of nature in this museum. You 
reach the summit of the hill by a spiral path bordered with ever- 
green. Upon the summit is a kiosk, or iron turret, from which a 
good view of the city may be had. 

Such is a brief and necessarily imperfect sketch of this minia- 
ture world of nature. No description, however elaborate or col- 



EVENING SCHOOL. 195 



ored, can convey a faithful picture of the original. To get an 
adequate idea of its wonderful extent, riches and beauty, one must 
actually visit it, and linger amid its munificence. 

One evening I was called on by a gentleman, whose acquaint- 
ance I had previously formed, and who very kindly offered to ac- 
company me on a visit to some of the adult and juvenile evening 
schools. It was Monsieur the Director of the School of Freres. 
On descending from my room, I found him in the private saloon 
with Madame David, engaged in lively conversation, chatting and 
occasionally joking as familiarly as if they had been old acquaint- 
ances, although this was their first meeting. We were soon joined 
by two or three others of the Freres, when our little party set off" 
in lively mood, in one of the omnibuses which may be found at 
all times in any part of the city. Monsieur le Directeur was in 
excellent spirits, and actually poured forth his capacious and gen- 
erous soul for my peculiar edification and amusement. He was 
beyond middle age, above the medium stature, and rather corpu- 
lent. His massive face, beaming eyes, and open and radiant ex- 
pression, betokened the voluminous and versatile nature of his 
spirit. He permitted not a moment of the time in our passage or 
return, to pass unfilled. He was at times instructive, caustic, hu- 
morous, sentimental, but always kind, gracious, and animating. 
In spite of his religious garb, it was easily seen, that the world 
and its cares sat lightly upon him. He had a smile for its follies, 
a tear for its miseries, but a willing heart and a ready hand to ad- 
vance the good and noble wherever found. Of an observing 
cast of mind, possessed of a well-digested fund of thought and in- 
formation, with an easy and appropriate flow of language, he was 
eminently entertaining. He was one of those men rarely to be 
met with, in whose society you feel a continual glow of agreeable 
excitement. 



196 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



These schools were recently established by the city, for the ben- 
efit of the laboring poor. Only a portion of this class avail them- 
selves of their liberal provisions ; yet the institution attests the 
humane and munificent spirit of the government, and refutes the 
charge sometimes made, that monarchical governments are neg- 
lectful of the improvement and welfare of the people. The 
school that we were visiting, was one of the largest and most suc- 
cessfully conducted of this class, in the city ; and I was necessarily 
deeply interested in inspecting the mode of its operation, and 
learning of its character and success. My friend the conducteur, 
who seemed perfectly known to every one we met, took me 
through all the rooms, introducing me to the teachers, and some- 
times to the scholars, and explaining explicitly everything wor- 
thy of note. His very presence diffused around a genial and 
gladsome feeling wherever he went. The scholars seemed to re- 
gard him with a paternal and reverential sentiment akin to ado- 
ration. I was struck with the spirit of willingness, and the habits 
of strict assiduity which prevailed entire among the learners, and 
the kindly and earnest disposition expressed in the affectionate 
tones of voice, and the benignant regard of the teachers. The 
one party seemed imbued with profound gratitude for so grand 
and munificent a privilege, and appeared determined to improve 
the moments as if each came laden with golden opportunities ; the 
other showed that they felt the humane nature of their mission, 
and would ameliorate by hearty kindness the task rendered doubly 
difficult by early omissions. The spmt which prevailed was de- 
lightful — charming; it bordered on enthusiasm; and, carried 
away by its sympathetic influence, and the crowd of animating as- 
sociations which the scene and occasion gave forth, I was filled with 
deep emotion. It was certainly unique and profoundly interesting 
to see men bowed with age, strugghng with a manly heart but 



EVENING SCHOOLS. DEA\\T[NG. I97 

with a child's perception, to master the mere elements of their 
vernacular tongue. Here were persons forty and even fifty years 
of age, who had come up to the place fatigued with the day's la- 
bor, cheerfully yielding the small fragments of time left them 
amid the incessant and depressing toil for the narrowest physi- 
cal subsistence, in order to gain the keys of knowledge, which 
were to unlock the portal, revealing to their eager gaze the 
world of thought and sentiment. TJie muscular working of their 
manly countenances betrayed their intensity of soul, — and 
as they brushed from their brow the sweat and dust, which in 
their earnest desire for mental acquisition, they had not removed 
before leaving their toil, I could not but feel abashed and hu- 
miliated in view of my own delinquencies, — at the thought of 
hours misspent, and opportunities misimproved. It is impossi- 
ble for us who have learned some of the elements of knowledge 
in our youth, to estimate their value, or appreciate the want of 
them felt by those who were so unfortunate as to be deprived of 
the glorious blessing. These early privileges were brightened into 
our youthful mind imperceptibly, like the gradual opening of the 
noon of day ; while their possession and noble results flowing in 
upon our being in broad and intermitting streams, are like the 
gladsome and genial sunshine and dew, whose very universality, 
life-breathing fragrance, and perennial beauty, render us indififer- 
ent to their value and loveliness. 

A feature of this school, not unworthy of mention, was the 
prominence given to Drawing. I had observed the large 
share of attention devoted to this branch, in the other schools 
I visited, and I thought to comprehend the reasons for the 
course pursued ; but here, where the learners, from the nature 
of the case, could not be expected to be taken farther than the 
mere elements of reading, writing, ^nd spelling, it seemed an 
17* 



198 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

injudicious ajDpropriation of time, to spend any of it in the ac- 
quisition of any brancli of learning, but such as constitute, iL 
common opinion, with us, the simplest ground-studies of an educa- 
tion. A moment's reflection, however, rectified this view. The 
truth is, that the notions of the French, and those generally pre- 
vailing, in this country, in regard to the comparative value of 
certain branches of education, and particularly that of drawing, 
are different. We are accustomed to look upon drawing, in & 
course of study, as ornamental only, — calculated, at the most, 
but to cultivate the taste and elevate and refine the sentiments ; 
but the French, in addition to this influence of the beautiful 
art, connect it directly with the common pursuits of hfe, and 
make it an indispensable acquisition in every artisan who would 
expect to excel in his trade. And it cannot for a moment be 
questioned, that the superiority of the French in the grace and 
beauty of their fabrications, can be traced directly to the great at- 
tention given by them to the art of drawing. In this school a 
considerable proportion of the scanty time was devoted to this ex- 
ercise by all; the walls of the room were covered with patterns, 
illustrating every stage in the progress of the learner, from the 
first rough lines, to the most perfect and beautiful picture ; and 
the readiness and evident pleasure with which the teacher showed 
you the more successful efforts of the learners, commenting, at the 
same time, upon his enviable talents, — while other branches were 
omitted, — clearly evinced the value attached to the attainment by 
the French, merely in its ordinary relations to practical life. And 
the exercise was engaged in here, by the scholars, not as it is too 
frequently among us, merely to while away the time, or as a re- 
lief from more irksome studies, but with a spirit of deep and 
earnest enthusiasm, — and the improvement made was correspond- 
ingly good. Indeed, I was shown some specimens, executed on the 



ATTENTION GIVEN TO DEAWING. 199 



spot, wliich for perfection and grace of outline, delicacy and charm 
of shading, and life-glowing and spiritual beauty breathed into them, 
would have done credit to any artist, — but when considered as the 
productions of beginners, mere tyros, in the art, they were really 
wonderful. Our first astonishment, however, at such superior ac- 
quisition, will be diminished when we consider that the French- 
man seems endowed by nature with a pecuhar talent for the 
appreciation of the nice and beautiful in form ; and were it not so, 
the influences of his external life could not but form such a quality 
of his being. The great attention given to art throughout the 
country, the vast gardens in which every form of nature is ad- 
miringly displayed, the numerous public monuments adorned with 
the riches of ancient sculpture, the vast piles of architecture every- 
where offering to view their grandeur and magnificence, the im- 
mense collections of paintings glowing with beauty, with which 
Paris and all the important towns of France are filled, and all 
entirely free and accessible to everybody, are so many educational 
influences, silently but unceasingly, forming in the soul of the 
native the very spiritual essence of art. The Parisian is sur- 
rounded by such influences from infancy to age. The first play- 
thing of his nursery is, it may be, an exquisite copy of the Yenus 
de Medici or the Apollo de Belvidere ; the fountain in which he 
sports his tiny bauble, is filled with Naiads and Tritons ; the gar- 
den whither his nurse or governess takes him for an airing is 
decorated with statues and antiques ; indeed, he cannot cast his 
eyes up, or around, without meeting with some object of art. He 
breathes, as it were, an atmosphere of art, — and so saturated be- 
comes his soul with the forms of beauty, that he has only to acquire 
the rules of outward form, and the spirit flows in, as by natural 
accord. 

We were led from the ordinary study-rooms into a small studU 



200 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

for moulding heads and busts. A student was hard at work, all 
covered with dust. He was mentioned to me as possessing very 
superior talent, — and having passed rapidly through the several 
grades of drawing, crayoning, etc., was now finishing off in this 
department previously to his departure for Philadelphia, where he 
intended to pursue his vocation. He was eager and minute in his 
inquiries touching the United States ; and when he learned that I 
was from Boston, he invited me to step in some day, and make him 
a call, when he should be installed in his new Western home, — • 
never for a moment imagining that many people, residing in Bos- 
ton and vicinity, never go to Philadelphia even for once in their 
life. 

The school session is between seven and ten in the evening, and 
is held every day of the week except one. The teachers receive 
about one hundred and twenty dollars per annum. 

We passed into the basement story, and were soon standing be- 
fore a large class of juvenile, indigent, evening-scholars. They 
were poorly clad, covered with the dust of their labor, and had 
the appearance of having come direct from their toil to the school. 
Their countenances bore a depressed and saddened expression, 
but their eyes sparkled with youthful hope and vivacity. They 
were deeply interested, I was told, and were making rapid pro- 
gress. Who knows, mused I, that here is not developing genius, 
one day to illumine the world ? It was certainly a touching 
spectacle to contemplate this Spartan band of youth, who, con- 
temning the captivating recreations of children, had nobly decided 
— even against the immense odds — to conquer or die in the strug- 
gle for improvement. The genius of learning ever lends a listen- 
ing ear to such suitors, and never fails to dispense her favors 
generously when thus wooed. The example of these youth, giving 
the few moments of their time in the intervals of their severe toil, 



EVENING SCHOOLS. 201 



to intellectual culture, should put to shame many of our sons and 
daughters, who find study irksome even when enlivened by the 
pleasing and delightful circumstances of books, teachers, appara- 
tus, and all the appointments which human ingenuity can invent, 
or a noble benevolence apply, to lessen the toil of the student in 
the declivitous path up the hill of science. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

PALACE OF THE LUXEMBOURG RICH PAINTES^GS — INSTITUTION 

FOR DEAF-MUTES — HALE AND CHEERFUL APPEARANCE OF IN- 
MATES — MODE OF TEACHING TEACHERS OF FRENCH — PAL- 
ACE OF THE FINE ARTS — A NICE PARTY OF COUNTRY BEAUX 
AND LASSES CHURCH OF THE MADELINE ITS MAGNIFI- 
CENCE RICH TREAT AT THE PROTESTANT CHURCH NUNS AT 

THE CHURCH OF ST. GERMAIN l' AUXERROIS — RURAL-RESTAU- 
RANT — MADAME DAVID — REUNION OF OUVRIERS — BISHOP OF 
PARIS — DEEPLY INTERESTING CHARACTER OF EXERCISES. 

On Friday I made a visit to the Palace of the Luxembourg. 
It is boldly situated at the head of the rue de Tournon, and has 
connected with it, on the south, an extensive garden, beautifully 
laid out with walks stretching through trees, shrubbery and flow- 
ers ; and the whole enhvened by sheets of water, upon which I 
frequently saw, in my rambles in that direction, skaters in brisk 
and jocular exercise. The present edifice was commenced in 
1616, under the direction of Marie de Medicis. In 1798, it was 
greatly improved and decorated. Its principal entrance presents 
at its extremities two large pavilions, united by a double terrace, 
pierced by four arcades. In the middle of the edifice, upon a 
quadrangular basis, rises a neat and elegant cupola. It develops 
three orders of architecture : first, the rez-de-chausse,— or ground- 
floor, — exhibits the Tuscan ; then, in the first stage, comes the 
Doric, and the Ionic displays itself in the second stage. The 



PALACE OF THE LUXEMROURG. 203 

whole appearance is masculine, and singular. There are many 
paintings, and some of great value, in this palace. Among them 
are gems, from the pencils of Reubens, Raphael, and Benjamin 
West. How indefatigable must have been the industry, as well 
as profound the genius of these sublime spirits, especially the two 
former, whose works may be found in nearly every gallery of con- 
sequence in Europe ! How is it, that great genius is so often 
found united to great industry and perseverance ? May it not 
be, that the latter serves to give birth to the former? Some 
of these paintings are more than two hundred years old, and 
yet they retain, in a good degree, their spirit and freshness. 
The art is indeed noble, that can arrest the varying expression, — 
the faithful index of the fugitive emotions of the soul, — and trans- 
mit it thus, through successive generations. 

The library is two hundred and twelve feet in length, by twenty- 
three in width. It is decorated with many choice pieces of 
paintings and sculpture. The central cupola of the gallery, painted 
by Eugene Delacroix, represents the Elysium of great men, as 
described by Dante. 

The chapel, which is on the ground-floor, is beautiful, and near 
it is a magnificent hall, painted by Reubens, called the sleeping 
chamber of Marie de Medicis. There are many other things 
here of deep interest, but space would fail me to enumerate them. 
The paintings struck me as being larger, more highly colored, and 
to represent action and violent emotion in a higher degree than 
those in general in the Louvre. Perhaps it was because more 
of them were of the French school. My guide, whom I did not 
fancy, took me hastily through the building, reciting his story in a 
monotonous manner, to which I gave little attention. Here, in 
the gallery of paintings, as in that of the Louvre, were artists as- 
siduously engaged in making copies of some of the smaller works. 



204 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



After spending much less time than I could have wished in this 
interesting palace, a few moments' walk brought me to that nobly 
humane asylum, the Royal Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 
situated in the Rue de St. Jacques. The building is by no means 
imposing in appearance ; but an inspection of its interior shows it 
to be sufficiently ample and conveniently disposed. The superin- 
tendent showed me over the edifice with a delicacy of politeness 
which in Paris extends even to the government, and which here 
seemed tempered with a suavity and kindness inspired by the be- 
nevolent influences of the spot. The males whom I saw, were 
scattered in the diiferent rooms, intently occupied in various me- 
chanical employments. They were garbed in blouse ; and bore a 
hale and cheerful aspect, which seemed to show that no care 
pressed upon them, and that no thought shaded by the irrevocable 
misfortune of their condition, was wont to cross their minds. How 
fortunate the nature of man, that can thus be formed to the con- 
tingencies of any lot ! The articles of fabrication shown me, were 
even superior to those made by the blind. If not more delicately 
elaborate, they exhibited more solidity and a smoother finish. 
Indeed, I half fancied that I discovered traces of superior care and 
devotion in the nicer parts, not found in the fabrications of hear- 
ing persons, distracted as they are by appeals to the external 
sense, and hurried by an impatience to participate in the gladsome 
notes of social and musical life. 

The sublime and humane idea of restoring to society men whom 
nature would separate, is due to the Abbe de I'Epee. With a 
fortune greatly disproportionate to the largeness of his soul, he 
devoted his narrow means for the furtherance of his noble mission, 
compensating by talent, energy, and devotion, and by a rigid sim- 
plicity of life, for the want of greater pecuniary means. He at 
first assembled in his own house forty deaf and dumb persons, 



INSTITUTION FOR THE DEAF AND DUMB. 205 



boarded them at his own expense, and after reserving the merest 
pittance for his own sustenance, expended the entire of the re- 
mainder of his estate in educating them, and in founding one of 
the noblest institutions that has ever blessed humanity. In the 
Salle des Exercises, is a fine picture of this founder of the school, 
embracing the young deaf and dumb Count de Toulouse, whom 
he had educated. There is, moreover, a bust of the Abbe de 
I'Epee, as also one of the Abbe de Sicard, who, on the death of the 
Abbe de I'Epee, in 1796, undertook the management of the es- 
tablishment. It has since been transferred from a convent of 
Celestines, to the buildings of the Seminaire de St. Magloire, 
where it now exists. 

The school comprises two hundred boys and sixty girls, who are 
admitted between the ages of ten and fourteen years, and are re- 
tained in general six years. The best two among the male pupils 
belonging to each class of the sixth year, are selected to receive 
the advantages of a superior course of education for the additional 
term of three years, — and from what is called the class of in- 
struction complimentaire. They are supported by a fund left by the 
late physician of the institution, the benevolent Dr. Itard. Most of 
the pupils are supported here, at the expense of the government, but 
a few are kept at the school by their relatives. The expense of the 
government is about ninety dollars per annum, and private schol- 
ars are charged one hundred and seventy dollars. The number 
of instructors is, eight for the males, four of whom are deaf and 
dumb ; and four for the females, besides four or five young per- 
sons who are preparing for situations as teachers, by attending the 
exercises of the school-rooms, and rendering assistance from time 
to time as they find the opportunity. These are called aspirants, 
and become subsequently teachers, if their talents and success 
seem to warrant the merit. 

18 



206 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

The salaries of the teachers are not large ; but after thirty year? 
service, they receive on retiring, a pension from the government ol 
half-pay for life. 

I was not permitted to see the female part of the school. The 
sexes are kept entirely distinct ; and to my request to be shown 
through the department, I was told that no man was allowed there 
but the priest. The reason for the separation of the sexes, is 
founded on the belief that, deprived of articulate speech, the ordi- 
nary advantages of social intercourse would not accrue to these 
pupils. In this decision, it is forgotten that the communication of 
thought, of sentiment, of emotion, does not depend wholly upon 
speech. The beauty and poetry of the soul often finds a happier 
and more forcible medium of expression in the manner, the coun- 
tenance, the eye, than could be given to it by the meagre and in- 
adequate power of language. And imperfectly developed must 
ever be that character, which comes to age without the vivifying 
influence of intercourse with the opposite sex. 

In this admirably arranged charity, the pupils of both sexes are 
instructed by means of three different languages, namely, by al- 
phabet, by mimic-signs, and by dumb-articulation. The last men- 
tioned mode, although successfully pursued in several distinguished 
institutions in Germany, has not yet gained much favor with the 
French. It has been repeatedly attempted in this school, but the 
system has not gained particular favor. The professors have 
declared, that in their opinion, the advantages to be gained by 
this mode, were by no means equal to the comparative time and 
effort necessary to reach the result. 

Here, as elsewhere in the schools, all are carefully taught draw- 
ing, for the double purpose of cultivating taste, and of enabling 
them with facility to dehneate the signs and the alphabet, by 
which they can mutually communicate their ideas to each other. 



MY FRENCH TEACHER. 201 



In taking leave of this interesting establishment, I could not 
but pause for a moment in the entrance-square, to contemplate an 
object of great curiosity. It was an enormous elm, two hundred 
and forty-six years of age, and ninety feet in height, which had 
been planted by Sully, minister of Henry IV. It shows no sign 
of age, and is considered the finest tree in the neighborhood of 
Paris. Its gigantic stature, and wide-spreading branches, are not 
unemblematic of the support and protection which the govern- 
ment of France affords to its unfortunate children. 

One of the lecture-rooms at the School of Medicine, which I 
looked into on my way home, detained me but a few moments. 
The professor, a venerable-looking gentleman, apparently fifty or 
sixty years of age, seated in an armed-chair, was reading a lecture 
from a manuscript, in a dull and lifeless manner. Specimens of 
anatomy were promiscuously lying on the table before him, at 
some distance, wliich he sometimes referred to by leaving ofi" his 
reading, taking up the part to be explained, and deliberately ex- 
emplifying the point that he had presented. His lack of ani- 
mation was accompanied by its usual result, a thin attendance ; for 
the ]'oom was no more than half filled. 

I was called on, in the evening, by a young gentleman who had 
been sent to me by my friend Monsieur the Director, and recom- 
mended by him as a suitable person to improve me in the graces 
of French pronunciation. He was a very young man, perhaps no 
more than twenty years of age, yet full of spirit, vivacity, and 
grace, and possessed of a smooth and fluent utterance. As he 
could not speak English, he offered his services to me for four 
francs a lesson, — five being the usual price. I struck a bargain 
with him for a lesson a day, of an hour's length ; and I had no 
reason afterwards to regret the choice I made in him, for he 
proved a faithful and excellent instructor, and he aided me in 



208 CKESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



other respects. I had previously called, for purposes of mere in- 
quiry, hoTvever, on several of these conveniences to strangers in 
Paris. They are quite a numerous tribe in this well ar- 
ranged city ; and their cards, ostensibly posted, frequently meet 
the eye in certain quarters. These gentlemen-teachers are entirely 
complaisant, enter readily into conversation with you, — and by 
the perfect coincidence of opinion and congeniality of feeling be- 
tween you, they will be very likely to touch your sympathies at 
once. It may, perchance, appear a httle singular at first, that 
they happen always to have just time to teach one more pupil, and 
that although they have before them several applications for this 
hour, you would most assuredly receive the preference. After 
learning that I was from Massachusetts, they would enumerate 
the distinguished men from my own State, whom they had had 
the honor to instruct ; and I really began to feel a kind of social 
elevation, in being so near such eminent society. 

Feb. 5th. I attended in the morning, two lectures at the Sar- 
bonne. The rooms were not filled. The professors spoke with 
notes before them. In one room each student .had with him a 
book, to which I noticed he was frequently cited by the speaker. 

In the afternoon, I passed through the Palace of Fine Arts. In 
company, was a small number of persons belonging to the rural pop- 
ulation. My attention was as much engrossed with the interesting 
company, as with the remarkable objects to be seen in the museum. 
They were evidently in Paris for the fii'st time, and as they would 
probably never see it again, they could not but be highly impressed 
with the value of time. Every traveller feels that a day in Paris 
is equal to weeks or months elsewhere ; then how concentrated 
must be the feelings of the inhabitant of the country or smaller 
town, who has been accustomed to look up to Paris as the sum of 
artificial creation, and the end of travelhng life, — as a world of 



MUSEUM OF FEENCH MONUMENTS. 209 



beauty in miniature, and the grand centre of opinion and style for 
the world, and to which he must make one visit in his life, as 
would a Mohammedan to the city of Mecca. So strong is this 
feeling among the rural class in France, that sometimes the surplus 
earnings of many years, if not an enth-e hfe, are freely consecrated 
to this one long-nurtured purpose. " Who has not seen Paris, has 
seen nothing," is a common saying in the country towns in France. 

The party in question was composed of youthful persons of 
either sex, and by the evident agreeable state of their feelings, 
they were nearer to each other in sentiment, than to warrant 
the opinion of being merely second-cousins. They passed 
through the different rooms, following our guide in the most 
docile manner, apparently thinking more of themselves and of each 
other, than of the interior of the edifice. Whenever their atten- 
tion was a little diverted to the objects we met with, it created 
only a mixture of surprise and distraction, similar to that which 
the boy experiences when he enters for the first time a store filled 
with the captivating objects of his admiration. 

The buildings occupying the spot whence now rises the vast 
and interesting structure, called the Palace of the Fine Arts, was 
used, after the Kevolution, as a general depot for the tombs, 
statues, bass-reliefs, and other decorations wrested from foreign 
churches and private establishments by the conquering and grasp- 
ing power of the French arms. These profaned relics of victory 
were gathered in the various halls, cloister, and garden of the es- 
tablishment, classified and arranged according to their century. 
This collection, which must have been unique and deeply interest- 
ing, received the name of the Museum of French Monuments. At 
the E-estoration, however, most of the monuments were returned 
to the churches w^hence they were taken ; and the present edifice 
is used for a museum and school. 

18* 



210 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



An ample stairway, overlaid and ceiled witli marble, formed un- 
der a grand vestibule, and sustained by marble pillars, leads to the 
first stage of the building, which comprises several spacious com- 
partments decorated with paintings. In one of these rooms con- 
structed in an amphitheatrical form, is the celebrated fresco, from 
the pencil of Paul-de-la-Roche, representing the eight principal 
schools of painting: namely, the Roman, the Venetian, the Floren- 
tine, the German, the Spanish, the Holland, the Flemish, and 
French school. I was particularly struck with the portrait of Ra- 
phael, in the piece, bearing a more than mortal expression of beauty 

Two other rooms constitute a museum of chef d'cBuvres of 
antiquities. In the chapel of Medicis is a copy of the master- 
piece of Michael Angelo; and in the ancient church of the 
Petites- Augustine s is the splendid copy, by Singlon, of his " Last 
Judgment." This picture is very large, and the canvas is crowded 
with figures displaying, with boldness, an mfinity of attitudes. 
The picture illustrates the powerful creative genius of the great 
Italian painter ; but the impression which it makes upon the mind 
is rather confused. 

In the rooms in the first stage take place the annual exposi- 
tions of works of art, sent by pupils from Rome. The second 
stage contains the works w^hich have obtained the prize at the 
Institute. 

After leaving this royal museum, I made a visit, for the twen- 
tieth time, perhaps, to the justly celebrated church of the Made- 
line. I could have wished to visit it tw^enty times more ; and 
when I did leave it for the last time, it w^as with a feeling of regret 
Vv^hich one experiences on the sejDaration from a scene enshrined 
in the mind with delicious emotions. Its noble and symmetrical 
proportions, its pure but splendid architecture, its gorgeously rich 
interior and decorations, the fine paintings with which its walla 



CHUECH OF THE MADELINE. 211 



and ceilings are adorned, combine to render it by far the most 
beautiftd work of art I ever beheld. 

The magnificent structure is in the boulevard of the same 
name, opposite the Rue Ro} ale ; and is after the Parthenon at 
Athens, but larger, being three hundred and twenty-eight feet in 
length, and one hundred and thirty-eight feet in width, while its 
archetype is only two hundred and twenty-eight by one hundred 
feet. It stands upon a platform twelve feet high, surrounded by 
a magnificent peristyle of fifcy-two Corinthian columns, each sixty 
feet high and six feet in diameter. Nothing can be finer than the 
view presented by the facade, ornamented as it is with all which 
sculpture has produced that is rich and elegant. But in gazing 
upon this splendid triumph of genius, the eye first falls upon the 
noble fronton, upon which, in a vast composition with alto-rehevo, 
is represented the Last Judgment. The figures have a proportion 
of about fifteen feet. In the middle, rises the person of Christ ; 
and at his feet is the Madeline in a suppliant attitude ; she ap- 
pears to solicit pardon of the fishermen near her, while an angel, 
armed with a sword, repulses them. 

Passing from the majestic corridor of the double range of col- 
umns, at the southern front, through the massive bronze doors, 
you enter the body of the edifice. What a scene bursts upon your 
enraptured view ! The fioor entirely of marble, divided into com- 
partments of various figures and colors ; the numerous chandeliers 
of burnished gold, gilding the vast space of the interior ; the pic- 
tures of consummate execution speaking to you from the walls ; 
the beautiful statues, adorning all the niches, representing the 
sublimest form of thought ; the magnificent group of sculpture 
over the high altar of the virgin herself, of the purest white mar- 
ble, guarded by two angels of extreme grace and beauty ; aU con- 
spii^e to render it a scene of indescribable beauty. 



212 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



The interior of the edifice is totally different from most great 
Catholic churches. It is not divided into nave and aisles, but 
forms a vast hall without windoAvs, receiving its light from open- 
in o-s at the centres of three fine domes that form the interior roof. 

The history of the church is curious. A religious edifice was 
ordered to be built here, by Louis XV, and the first stone was 
laid in 1763. The Revolution of 1789 suspended the work. In 
1808, Napoleon changed entirely the plan and destination of the 
structure of twenty years, which had cost nearly two millions of 
francs, and caused to be erected on the site a Temple of Glory in 
honor of the Grand Army. But this, as well as many of Napo- 
leon's gigantic plans, w^as arrested in 1813, at the restoration of 
the Bourbons. Louis XVIII. recommenced the building in 1816, 
with the design of finishing the church to receive the monuments 
of his family, and to be dedicated to the Magdalen. Louis Phil- 
lippe, with his unbounded liberahty to the fine arts, had the 
unfinished work completed. 

However rich and beautiful the interior of this church, its high- 
est charm consists in its fine exterior. The profusion and variety 
of beauty within, overpowers and distracts the mind ; but in con- 
templating its noble and elegant proportions from without, the soul 
is gradually elevated, the thought concentrated ; while the emo- 
tions, purified, become entranced in a spiritual elysium. The 
contemplation of this edifice, and that of the Pantheon, produces 
a similar effect upon the mind. The lover of the beautiful will 
ever feel that he cannot look upon them too often, or gaze upon 
them too long, — while in after years, their image will ever and 
anon float in his memory, awaking delightful recollections of the 
past. 

Sunday, Feh. Qth. First, went to the post-office, but received 
only, as compensation for my trouble, a renewed practical illustra- 



ST. GERMAIN L'AUXERROIS. 213 

tion of the pronunciation of the French negation — ne rien, a 
sound, bj the way, with which my ear was already but too 
familiar. Afterwards, I attended service at the great Protestant 
church of the city. On arriving, I found the church, which is ca- 
pable of holding two thousand persons, nearly full, and numbers, 
besides, rushing forward in quest of seats. From this impatience 
of movement all around, and the glowing expectation which was 
depicted upon the countenances of the audience, it was easy to 
infer that some bright particular star, of powerful attraction, was 
to be the spiritual guide of the forenoon's service. Nor was I at 
all deceived in so natural a conclusion. The address, which was 
of unusual leng'Ji, and very diversilied in style, was remarkably 
well sustained in interest, and had the power to keep the vast au- 
dience enchained in almost breathless attention, throughout its 
entire delivery. The speaker was slightly below the medium 
stature, and rather inclined to corpulency. His movements, how- 
ever, which were nervous, joined to his beaming countenance and 
eyes radiant with glow and fervency, added force to his brilliant 
style. He spoke without written notes, although it was evident 
enough from the perfection of the plan and details of the discourse, 
that it had at least been well engraved on the tablet of the mind. 
French speakers rarely or never read their addi-esses. Neither 
the genius of the language, nor the impetuosity of the French 
character, would admit of such a form. It is said that their speeches 
are often memorized, which is undoubtedly true, but they appear 
as spontaneous as if gushing directly from the fountain of the 
soul, with irrepressive force. Hence, their eloquence has the in- 
tensity of burning flame, melting with whatever it comes in 
contact. 

On returning to my lodging, I spent a brief hour or two in the 
church of St. Germain VAuxerrois. This edifice possesses inter- 



214 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



est on account of its antiquity, it having been erected at first^ 
sometime in the seventh century. Standing for a long time 
without the walls of the city, it more than once experienced the 
devastating influence of civil and foreign wars. It presents now 
very many points of interest to the lover of art, and of the cu- 
rious, but space fails to enumerate them here. It happened to 
be a time of service with them, and I had the enviable pleasure 
of hstening to some excellent music, and of witnessing some cu- 
rious ceremonies. The nave of the church was nearly half filled, 
mostly with a class resembling the common people, a large num- 
ber being children, accompanied by their teachers. There were, 
besides, a goodly number of that humane class of females entitled 
Sisters of Charity, who were easily distinguished by their simple 
and unique garb. In this latter respect, they more nearly resem- 
ble the Quakers, or Friends, than any class that I can liken them 
to. I should not omit to mention another class present, which 
w^ould be likely to attract the attention of a stranger. They were 
a band of young women, bearing a common resemblance in dress, 
age, and manner, and whom I took for nuns. Arranged on a 
long seat, they remained in a fixed attitude, presenting a demure 
and docile aspect. Their countenances, however, bore a bloom 
and redolence, reminding you of the first blush of spring. They 
were handsomely attired in long, flowing, silk robes, a white veil 
reaching below the breast, and white kid gloves of immaculate 
purity. Each bore in her hand a book of worship, beautifully 
gilded. The unique grace and elegance of their costume, and 
their subdued sedateness of expression, joined to the recollection 
of their secluded life, invested the spectacle they formed with a 
poetical charm which appealed with lively force to the imagina- 
tion. They were in consequence, the object of a covert scrutiny 
by the strangers present ; and one of the maidens, more lovely in 



RURAL RESTAURANTS. 215 

appearance than the others, ever and anon sweetly nestled in her 
place, with a kind of pardonable vanity apparent from her fre- 
quently rearranging some portion of her dress, and making occa- 
sional side-glances at some of the spectators present. In contem- 
plating these interesting specimens of the fairer creation, one felt 
to question the heart-wisdom at least of an institution that would 
thus pluck from social life such lovely flowers, to " waste their fra- 
grance on the desert air." 

After tea, I compounded with my conscience so far as to adopt 
the resolution to visit one of the many rural restaurants situated 
in the verge of the city, w^here the common people are wont to 
assemble on a Sunday evening, to forget for a brief moment, amid 
singing and dancing and convivial enjoyment, the weariness of 
their labors, and the pain of their hard lot. I found the place at 
last, with some difficulty, and after much particular inquiry ; but 
on arriving, I found that I should lose the gratification of my cu- 
riosity in the object of my visit thither, as it was not the season 
for the indulgence of such amusements. I was permitted, never- 
theless, to inspect the place fully, and had all my questions abun- 
dantly answered. There was a cozy and rustic cottage in the 
midst of a pleasing garden shaded w^ith trees, and interspersed 
with delightful arbors, with seats and tables for the lovers of the 
sparkling cup. In the middle of the garden was a small, open 
square, where rustic swain and buxom lassie had often, amid 
tumultuous music and hilarity, gracefully circled in the seducing 
and merry dance. 

On my return home, I spent a brief hour in agreeable conver- 
sation with Madame my graceful and kind-hearted landlady. 
Being the only foreigner out of the sixty young students who had 
rooms in her hotel, she had the politeness to grant me alone the 
privilege of spending with her and her maid, occasional fragments 



215 CKESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

of tiELC, for resolving my doubts on perplexing points in the day'a 
investigation, as well as receiving suggestions as to the course to 
be pursued to see and learn the most at the least expense of time. 
She was remarkably intelligent, spirited, and witty. Her little 
private parlor was graced with a small library, containing a choice 
collection of standard works in French literature. Her knowl- 
edo-e of the passing world was obtained from the journals, the 
loan of which she purchased at second hand, for a sou a reading. 
It would be rare, even in our own school-boasting country, to find 
a lady of similar early advantages, and the same occupation in 
life, to be so well versed in literature and a knowledge of the 
world, as was Madame David. She had been a long time engaged 
in the same occupation that she was now following, and which 
her mother pursued before her. Taking her word for it, she did 
not get rich — so much competition was there in the trade — al^ 
though she lived very frugally. She furnished the lodgers with 
meals when they ordered them, but her own were obtained by 
her maid from the restaurants, — and it v/as really curious to see, 
as I sometimes accidentally did, how very minute quantities of 
the different dishes they indulged in, sufficed her simple appetite. 
Before the evening was far spent, I set out for the Reunion 
des Ouvriers, held in the capacious basement of the Church of St. 
Sulpice, to which I had already received a printed invitation by 
my friend the Directeur. On arriving, I found the room crowded, 
and the exercises already begun. A seat had been reserved for 
me near the desk, to which I was immediately conducted amid 
marks of respect. A young man was reading an essay ; but be- 
fore I could well gather up the thread of his discourse, he came 
to an end. Having been previously informed that the bishop of 
Paris would honor the meeting with his presence, I was just 
imagming the sort of personage I should see in him, when (a 



REUNION DES OUVRIEES. 217 

slight movement announcing his entrance) the entire assembly rose 
simultaneously to their feet, and remained standing in a deferen- 
tial attitude, till the distinguished functionary had glided along 
through the aisle, rapidly but noiselessly, to liis seat behind the desk. 
While the president of the meeting — after announcing to the audi- 
ence that it was the especial request of their honored visitor, that 
there should be shown him no applause — was offering some re- 
marks of his own, I had a moment's leisure to survey the high cler- 
ical dignitary. My imagination had pictured a lordly personage, 
garbed in pontifical robes, and moving with measured dignity. 
But far different was the reahty. He was of the medium French 
stature, corpulent, but showing none of the unwieldiness which 
usually attends obesity. He was simply attired with a small 
French toque upon his capacious head. A massive gold ring, en- 
casing a brilliant, the badge of his office, was upon one of the 
gloved fingers of his hand, and constituted the only ornament he 
wore. On his expansive forehead was enthroned the grandeur of 
a lofty intellect. From his genial countenance beamed intelli- 
gence and benignity, while his eyes floated in a sea of sympathy, 
and were radiant with the fire of genius. His manner had the 
simplicity of a child. He followed the president, in an extempo- 
raneous address of considerable length ; and if my astonishment 
was great before, it was redoubled on hearing him speak. From 
the commencement to the close of his remarks, every mind was 
riveted to the speaker, with intense interest. His vast soul seemed 
pouring forth in a torrent of eloquence, while the deep sea of em- 
bodied sympathy which filled the spacious room, was profoundly 
agitated like a tumultuous lashed ocean. Now lively or humorous, 
now fervid or impassioned, then flashing in sallies of wit, and 
again abounding in melting pathos, the entire audience hung 
entranced upon his moving accents. At one moment the house 

19 



218 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAK-^VORLD. 

was convulsed with laughter ; at another, tears trickled down upon 
manly cheeks. He painted with masterly touches the numerous 
haunts of folly and vice in the new Babylon, as he termed it, and 
forcibly showed how superior to them were such soul-elevating 
places as that institution. Besides, added the speaker with pecu- 
liar significance, " You have the example of Christ, of the Apos- 
tles, and of the great and good of all ages." In common with the 
audience, I was deeply affected, and felt refreshed and elevated 
by his noble strains. 

He was followed by a very young man, in appearance no more 
than sixteen years of age, — but what a falling off was there ! 
His style bore the faults of youth and inexperience, without the 
marks of genius. 

Then came the report of the critic, — the reading of whici 
produced some merriment. This, as I understood, closed the reg 
ular exercises. Then followed volunteer speeches from gentle 
men invited, or accidentally present. One of the most notabU 
speakers, was the governor of the Hotel of the Invalids. He 
Bpoke fluently, and with animation, and his remarks, happily 
pointed off with apt ihustration and sparkhng anecdote, were well 
received by the company. Then followed a young gentleman, 
whom I took for a lawyer. After some vain display of person, 
and an obsequious apology for lack of preparation, he commenced. 
He was certainly fluent, and pleasing in his style ; but rambHng 
through fields of science, art, poetry, and literature, he had 
scarcely come to the point, before his time expired. Then fol- 
lowed the report of the treasury, dry and uninteresting, as such 
papers usually are. We were afterwards favored with a prosaic 
speech from one of the Professors of History at the Sarbonne. 
Volumes of books were then distributed, according to a previous 
arrangement, whether by lottery or otherwise, I could not under- 



REUNION DES OUVRIERS. gjg 

stand. The exercises were closed with singing and prayer. 
There was singing, also, after every exercise. Twice, a single 
powerful and cultivated voice, accompanied by an instrument, filled 
the room with its deep and rich melody. At other times, the 
singing was performed by the audience, — every person present, ex- 
cept myself, I believe, taking part. It was accompanied by a 
fine-toned organ, and the effect was grand and inspiring. It pro- 
duced upon my feelings an elevation and impressiveness, impos- 
sible to express. I could have listened to it forever. Just 
imagine, for a moment, the effect of perhaps a thousand or fifteen 
hundred cultivated voices (for all are thoroughly taught to sing in 
youth), in perfect harmony, and inspired by elevating exercises, 
pouring forth their deep melody, exquisitely blended with the ar- 
tistic tones of the organ. The singing and happy hits of the 
speakers gave more than freshness and piquancy to the exercises, 
and breathed into the whole a fraternal spirit. 

The character of this institution is professedly moral, religious, 
literary, and scientific, and is designed to furnish healthful relax- 
ation, elevating amusement, and practical improvement, to the 
laboring classes ; and from this meeting, and several others which 
I attended, I should think it admirably adapted to promote so laud- 
able an end. 

The Parisians are represented by some, as gay and frivolous, 
and entirely given to vain amusement ; but here is a society in 
the heart of the city, comprising more than a thousand per- 
sons — and there are several others such in the city — the mem- 
bers of which, for sobriety of demeanor, earnestness of feeling, 
and thirst for solid improvement, will compare with any people in 
the world. 

This institution resembles considerably our Lyceums or Insti- 
tutes. They are organized, however, on a broader basis, and 



220 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

their exercises are of a more diversified character. All but 
Jesuits, who are at the bottom of this, as well as most other 
like moral and rehgious enterprises in the citj, pay something for 
admittance. 



CHAPTER XYII. 

TO VERSAILLES — CHATEAU — VASTNESS — SPLENDID GROUNDS 

SUMPTUOUS INTERIOR — HOTEL DE BRISSAC — CONDITION 

OF DOMESTICS — NORMAL SCHOOL — HEALTHFUL APPEARANCE 
OF STUDENTS. 

Feb. 1th. I started by railroad for Versailles. A train leaves 
every hour, from both sides of the Seine, during the day and eve- 
ning. The distance is about twelve miles, and the rates of fare 
are forty, thirty, and twenty-live cents, according to places. I 
observed well-dressed and respectable-looking people in the second 
grade, and even the third. Indeed, it is said that " only women 
and fools go in the first place ;" or, with more propriety of expres- 
sion, such as would purchase exclusion. The time occupied thir- 
ty-five minutes. Arriving, I called on M. le Directeur of the 
Norman School, to whom I had letters of recommendation from 
the Vice-Rector at the Sarbonne. The Director received me 
graciously, assuring me that I was most welcome to inspect the 
entire establishment at pleasure. As the Palace of Versailles 
would not open on the next day, I decided to make immediately 
my visit to this justly celebrated establishment. 

CHATEAU DE VERSAILLES, 

I cannot, of course, attempt anything like a full description of 
this celebrated Palace, which would, indeed, require a volume ; 
but I am bound to say something about it, as well as its history. 

19* 



222 CRESTS FEOM THE 0€EAN-WORLD. 



About the middle of tlie seventeenth century, that magnilicent 
monarch, Louis XIV, surnamed the great, becoming tired of St= 
Germain, determined to build a palace, and create a court that 
should attract the admiration of Europe, and become tlie centre 
of the politics, art, literature, and refinement of the civilized 
world. He chose for this purpose the gently elevated and un- 
dulating grounds in the hunting forests, about twelve miles south- 
west of the capital, where his ancestors used to pursue the chase. 

Le Notre was employed to lay out the gardens and grounds, 
and Lebrun to paint the apartments. In order to obtain ampla 
room, the surrounding domains were purchased, until the whole, 
gardens, parks, and forests, expanded to a circumference of some 
sixty miles, with villages and agricultural grounds interspersed. 
A little to the east of the elevated plateau, upon which the palace 
was to stand, a town was laid out ; and some idea may be formed 
of the extent and prodigality of this court, when it is remembered 
that a town of one hundred thousand inhabitants sprang up, as 
if by magic, adorned with public squares, fine private hotels, and 
a number of public institutions, among which was a royal college. 

But the vast expenditure which was necessary, first to create, 
and then to keep up such a palace and court, impoverished the 
nation, and contributed materially to the subsequent revolution in 
1789. It is said that the actual expenditure on the buildings and 
grounds, was nearly two hundred millions of dollars. 

The town at present contains but about thirty thousand inhabi- 
tants ; but is considered one of the handsomest in France, although 
it now wears a dull and deserted appearance, being no longer re- 
sorted to by the beau monde. It consists principally of three wide 
streets, lined with trees, diverging from the Place d'Armes, an 
open space in front of the palace. The central and widest of 
these streets, is called tlie Avenue de Paris ; and those on tliQ 



PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 223 

nortli and south, the avenues of St. Cloud and Sceaux. The 
other streets, though of less width, are equally regular, cross each 
other at right angles, and are lined with handsome residences. 

From the Place cfArmes, eight hundred feet wide, you pass into 
the grand court, wliich is three hundred and eighty feet wide 
As seen from the grand court, on the side next the town, the pal- 
ace seems an intricate and interminable ago^regation of buildings, 
at one point advancing, at another, receding, yet magnificent amid 
this apparent confusion. But it is only when viewed from the 
garden, that the vastness of the huge and interminable pile is fully 
realized. You are now perfectly overwhehned with the extent of 
the mass. ^ The centre of the facade alone is three hundred feet 
front, and two hundred and sixty deep ; while on each side of it, 
a wing stretches off at right angles, to something like six hundred 
feet, presenting an entire fa;?ade of nearly two thousand feet, or- 
namented with Ionic pilasters, and with eighty statues sixteen feet 
in height, allegorically representing the months, seasons, arts, and 
sciences, and crowned by a ballustrade. This immense facade is 
pierced by more than three hundred windows and doors; and 
the impression of the vastness of the whole is heightened by 
remembering, that many of these windows admit light into single 
halls more than two hundred feet in length, thirty-five in breadth, 
and forty in height. 

Neither is the visitor less astonished, if he turns his attention 
to the grounds. Not only is he struck with their extent, but his 
mind is enraptured with admiration, in view of their inconceivable 
beauty, and the profusion of their decorations. From fountains 
worked on a gigantic scale, leap forth silvery waters, painting to 
the eye, at times, every hue of the rainbow. One of these foun- 
tains, the Neptune, cost three hundred thousand dollars ; and the 
expense of playing it, on the Sunday fetes, for the amusement of 



224 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the people, is from eight thousand to ten thousand francs, or from 
fifteen hundred to two thousand doUai's. "Within the grounds are 
large lakes, embowered in refreshing groves, on which glided for- 
merly boats and even ships, for the amusement of royalty. There 
are, also, two minor palaces, mere summer houses compared with 
the Chateau itself; but the larger is nearly of the size of the 
President's house at Washington. These are called the Grand 
and the Petit Trianon, and were erected for the use of favorite 
mistresses. Disgusted with the unmeaning pomp of royalty, here 
the beautiful but unfortunate Marie Antoinette used to hie away 
from the palace, and regale in happier moments her buoyant and 
graceful life. To the south, is the orangery, where a whole grove 
of these trees bloom in winter, and are removed in summer to border 
the avenues and walks, and load the air with their rich fragrance. 
The avenues, arbors, the margins of the lakes, and the fountains 
which meet the visitor at every turn, are appropriately adorned 
with countless groups of beautiful statuary, imparting a classic air 
to the whole magnificent scene. 

I entered the palace by the way of the town. In the court, I 
was immediately besieged by persons offering themselves for 
guides, or exposing for sale hand-books containing a succinct ac- 
count of the palace and its gardens. Upon the frieze of the im- 
posing front of the main range of buildings, you may read in large 
golden letters, " A toutes les gloires de la France^^ which indicate 
the new destination of the palace and grounds, under the reign of 
Louis Phillippe. As you enter, a liveried huissier or door-keeper 
politely indicates to you the direction you are to take ; and at the 
entrances of all the apartments, these persons are stationed for 
the same purpose. But for this arrangement, strangers would 
find it impossible to make their way successfully through the laby- 
rinths of rooms of the interminable Chateau. In resfard to the 



MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 225 

extent of the interior of the palace, I can only say, that it is 
judged that it would require two hours to walk through the entire 
estabhshment, without stopping a moment to examine the different 
objects. I was myself five hours in going through, hastily and 
with intense industry, tarrying only long enough to make a rapid 
inspection of some object particularly remai^kable, or peculiarly 
interesting from its historical associations. The splendor of 
what I had before seen in the Louvre and in the Luxembourg, 
was lost in the magnificence of this palace. The painted ceilings, 
the pictured walls, the size and number of its miiTors, the highly 
finished floors, the tapestry, the gilding, the exquisitely wrought 
furniture, admit of no description which can convey an adequate 
idea of its sumptuousness. The Salon d^Hercule, and the Salles 
des MarecJieaux, de Venus, Diane, Mercure, Mars, ApoIIon, VAhon- 
dance, de la Guerre, etc., so named from the paintings on their 
ceilings, walls, or other appropriate devices, are all truly noble 
apartments. The Grande Galerie is two hundred and twenty- 
eight feet in length, by thirty-two feet in breadth, and forty-two 
feet in height. The ceiling, painted by Le Brun, represents some 
of the most striking events in the early part of the reign of 
Louis XIV. 

The Museum of Yersailles is the History of France in action. 
All the battles, all the most brilliant actions, are here represented, 
from the foundation of the monarchy up to the present day. 
Each period has its saloon or gallery. A part of the ground-floor 
is devoted to sculpture. The rest of the palace is filled with jDictures. 

The victories of the Republic, and the glorious events of the 
reign of Napoleon, have a large space appropriated to them. Here 
may be seen the grand and celebrated compositions of the Coro- 
nation, the battles of Austerhtz, d'Eylau, and many other pictm^es, 
master- pieces of the modern school of painting. 



226 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-Y\^OELD. 



The more recent events, of the Eevolution of 1830, and the 
brilliant campaigns in Algiers, have also a place appropriated to 
them. 

The historical portraits are numerous. First, may be seen a 
collection of the portraits of all the kings of France ; afterwards, 
the constables, great admirals, and marshals. In an immense sa- 
loon are arranged, besides, the portraits of personages of all na- 
tions, and times, who have been illustrious either upon the throne, 
or in war, politics, literature, or in the arts and sciences. 

One entire room is devoted to the views of the historical cha- 
teaux of France. In another, is a collection of paintings in water- 
colors, tracing the campaigns of Italy. 

The busts and statues form an extensive and interesting col- 
lection of the most celebrated persons of all countries and times. 
There are, besides, the tombs of the kings, queens, and princes- 
ses of France. 

Many of the w^orks are from the most celebrated artists. 
Among them may be recognized pictures, from the pencil of 
Horace Vernet, Paul Delaroche, Deveria, and a host of other 
celebrites. 

i^othing can be more imposing than the perspective of these 
immense galleries, and range of rooms, losing themselves in the 
distance. Those called after the luxurious monarch, Louis XIV, 
I thought magnificent, beyond even the power of imagination to 
conceive. They looked directly out upon the garden, and were 
as beautiful and gorgeous as the finest gilt, marble, and glass could 
be formed by the genius of man. As I stood at the entrance, 
memory rolled back to by-gone years, and fancy pictured many a 
gay and brilliant scene of the past, when the monarch, surrounded 
by groups of the gayest and most chivalrous gentlemen, and beau- 
tiful and elegant ladies of the realm, were gliding in the voluptuous 



HOTEL DU BRISSAC. 227 

dance. Such a living picture as could be imagined would surpass 
a fairy scene. 

The expense of keeping up such an establishment has deterred 
all the sovereigns from residing there since the Revolution. At 
that time, it suffered greatly by the irruption of the populace into 
the chateau. Its decorations were then much mutilated. Louis 
Phillippe, with his grand munificence, restored, at his private 
expense, its ancient splendor, and gave a new destination to the 
whole. 

I took lodging for the night at the Hotel du Brissac, the identi- 
cal house once occupied by the duke of that name, a circumstance 
upon which my accommodating landlord frequently dwelt, as if it 
had invested his house with some strange charm. After supper, 
which was excellent, I sauntered out in quest of a Cabinet de 
Lecture, or reading-room, but finding there were none, I realized 
fully the deprivation of what constitutes, in Paris, to a reading 
man, so agreeable a resort. I managed, however, to spend the 
evening pleasantly enough, talking familiarly with the landlord, 
his wife, and such gentlemen as happened to come in. One of 
these latter told me, with all due gravity, that the Americans and 
English are more polite than the French, although he admitte(? 
that the French are the more gallant of the two. He insisted 
further, that the Enghsh, great numbers of whom reside in Ver- 
sailles, speak French more correctly than the French residents 
themselves. I took this as coming from one of those ambiguous 
personages who may be frequently met with in Europe, hanging 
about hotels, and eking out a scanty subsistence from travellers, 
by flattery, or by means even less justifiable. 

While sitting in the dining-hall, the family came in, and made 
their supper, consisting of soup, a scanty supply of meat, with 
cider instead of wine. They were follov/ed by the domestics, 



228 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



who appeared in the merriest mood imaginable. They seemed 
not to suppose that I had ears of my own ; for they chatted Avith 
unbounded freedom upon any subject that happened to come 
uppermost, making all manner of remarks about my humble self. 
It being the season of Carnival, bright anticipations floated in 
their merry minds, and lent a gay Tolubility to their irregular 
conversation. 

Domestics at the hotels, restaurants, cafes, and other hke 
places, rarely receive compensation for their services, of the land- 
lord ; but rely upon what they can obtain from travellers, for 
favors done, such as cleansing and polishing boots, removing bag- 
gage, etc. Indeed, in some establishments, the situation is so 
enviable as to induce the domestic to purchase his place. This 
being the case, it is not so surprising that domestics in these coun- 
tries are somewhat importunate to travellers. It was the rule at 
this estabhshment for the domestics to retire, ordinarily, from ten 
to eleven o'clock ; but on Sunday evenings, they were aUowed to 
go to masquerade balls, and be out, if they chose, all night. 

Accommodations and fare here, were excellent, and much cheaper 
than at Paris. 

Feb. 8th. Proceeded early to the Normal school, where, after 
a slight delay, I was admitted, — conducted through the different 
apartments of the building, and over the grounds, by one of the 
sub-teachers assigned by the director, .who happened himself to 
be engaged. The young gentleman who accompanied me, was 
affable in his manner, particular in his attentions to make me 
see all, and enthusiastic to have me duly appreciate the various 
excellent points of the establishment. I was also admitted to th*:* 
sessions of the several classes. 

This school, as its name implies, is designed to educate and fit 
young gentlemen for teachers of schools in the smaller towns and 



NOEMAL SCHOOLS. 229 



rural districts ; although, such as graduate, may become teachers 
in any school, or even engage in other pursuits, if it should turn 
out that their peculiar talent and tastes make the departure desir- 
able. The number of students between the ages of fourteen and 
eighteen, was one hundred and fifteen. They remain but two 
years, and do not study the languages. There is a juvenile depart- 
ment connected with the estabhshment, comprising several schools, 
of children of different ages, in which students of the principal 
department teach by turns, as a preparatory practice. Students 
are admitted after a satisfactory examination. Among other 
things, they are required to be able to pronounce Latin, without, 
however, understanding it. The average compensation of the 
Normal graduate, in a good situation, is from one hundred and 
seventy-five to two hundred dollars per annum, — the latter being 
considered excellent pay. None are admitted without boarding 
at the establishment. No corporal punishment is permitted, order 
being maintained by moral means, system of demerits, and in 
other such ways. Emulation is encouraged, and medals awarded 
to the most successful and worthy students. The school is con- 
ducted by a principal and ten professors, one for each department 
of instruction, namely. Ancient and Modern History and Geog- 
raphy, the Art of Teaching, Religion, Mathematics, Natural His- 
tory, Book-keeping, Music, Designing or Drawing, Gymnastics, 
etc. I was shown the cabinet and library. They are doubtless 
ample, but by no means extensive. The students were muscular 
and hale, and looked as if they came from the rural districts. In- 
deed, many of them wore wooden shoes, and were dressed in 
blouse. The building is not imposing, nor the rooms superior. A 
small garden is assigned the students, each being allotted a sepa- 
rate plot ; and after the first year, they are regularly mstructed in 
the theory and practice of agriculture. In the play-ground con- 
20 



230 CRESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



nected witli the establishment there is a meagre gymnasium for 
physical exercise. I must confess that I was somewhat disap- 
pointed in the school, which though evidently of an elevated char- 
acter, and conducted with ability, yet appeared hardly a model 
school for the nation. Connected with the Principal department, 
there are, as I have already observed, three primary schools, over 
which the Director has a supervision. Two are for very small 
children ; the other is entitled. Primary School Superior, where 
lads remain four years, and are prepared for the practical avoca- 
tions of life. I noticed a difference between the pronunciation in 
Versailles and Paris. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

REVOLUTION or FEBRUARY — CAUSE, REUNIONS — ITALIAN IN- 
DEPENDENCE JUST MILIEU OP MR. GUIZOT MORE REMOTE 

CAUSES — LOUIS PHILLIPPE — STORMY SESSION OF THE CHAM- 
BER OF DEPUTIES EVENING SCHOOL FOR JOURNEYMEN AND 

APPRENTICES PALAIS DE LA BOURSE A STROLL IN THE 

ENVIRONS OF PARIS — FORTIFICATIONS OF PARIS PLACE DE 

LA CONCORDE PARISIAN CAFES DAME DU COMPTOIR — 

GARCON — DANCING — MODEL OFFICE — THEATRE FRANCAIS 

ORCHESTRA — EXQUISITE PLAYING — LECTURES AT THE 

SARBONNE — MONSIEUR FRANK. 

Paris, Feb. dtk. I spent the evening in the Reading Eoom, 
near mj lodging, whicli had become for me a frequent resort, to 
frugahze spare moments of time in glancing at the current of 
events and opinions. The journals were filled with the discussion 
in the Chamber of Deputies, which had become ominously ani- 
mated, if not exceedingly violent. The debate was upcJi the last 
paragraph of the address of the Government to the Chamber, at 
the opening of its session, and particularly upon a single clause 
therein contained, by which such as had paiticipated in the late 
Reunions, were characterized SiS, politically blind, and decidedly in- 
imiccd to the government. These Reunions were simply political 
gatherings, composed mainly of opposition membeis and their 
constituents, held at various times in different parts of the king- 
dom, and partook somewhat of the nature of social, convivial 



232 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

meetings for free intercliange of oiDinion and sentiment upon the 
policy of the government, and the condition and prospects of the 
country. I speak now of the ostensible character of these assem- 
blings. Undoubtedly, the real purpose among the few contrivers 
of the scheme, was a general plan of agitation, with no well de- 
fined aim, — but which proved a powerful lever for a change 
of power. At some of these Reunions held of late, gentlemen 
had indulged in sentiments well calculated to irritate or alarm 
the government. At one, a Polish refugee declaimed wildly 
against the Russian and Austrian governments, and complained 
bitterly of the course pursued by the French minister. On com- 
plaint being made to Louis Phillippe, by the ministers of the for- 
mer governments, the noble exile was summarily punished for his 
temerity, by being immediately banished the kingdom. At an- 
other banquet, the customary sentiment of drinking the health of 
the king, was omitted. These, and other plain indications of a 
rapidly growing spirit of democratical audacity, joined, doubtless, 
wdth a hvely conviction of its danger, unless opportunely checked, 
had determined the government upon measures to stay its prog- 
ress. Hence the introduction of the topic in the Address, as just 
mentioned. 

Aside from the energy of will and power for unfaltering perse- 
verance which arbitrary opposition is always sure to impart, the agi- 
tators and the popular party had thek enthusiasm aroused and sym- 
pathies ardently excited, by the struggle for freedom then going 
on in Italy — that land of noble and animating recollections — 
against the crushing and blighting tyranny of Austria. The cold- 
hearted and unnatural attitude of the French government toward 
the unequal combatants, and particularly the equivocal policy of 
M. Guizot, its Prime Minister, as expressed by him in the noto- 
rious phrase, Le Juste Milieu, or Masterly Inactivity, as American 



OPPOSITION TO GOVERNMENT. 233 

politicians would have it, only deepened tlie feeling of resentment 
toward tlie government, and fanned the flame of feeling for popu- 
lar rights. England had openly expressed her sympathy for 
bleeding Italy ; and that France, the rival of England, herself the 
most powerful and enlightened nation in Western Europe, — a 
nation, too, that had already sacrificed so freely in blood and 
treasure, for human freedom, should now inhumanly fold her arms 
in a sort of stoical indifference not only to abstract justice, but to 
the fate of human liberty on the Continent, was not only a derelic- 
tion from the plainest principles of humanity, but would ever con- 
stitute an unpardonable national reproach. This sentiment wid- 
ened and deepened, seizing the thought and sympathy even of the 
more conservative part of the nation. Italian propagandism 
spread rapidly, as on the wing of thought, to every part of the 
kingdom. It diffused itself and penetrated among the mass of 
the population with electric celerity, awaking in the national heart 
stirring reminiscences of past glory, modified, indeed, by a feeling 
of shame and indignation against the government. The French- 
man of republican tendencies recognized in every Italian patriot 
a suffering brother, and saw in Austrian tyranny the prelude of 
his own bondage. These were some of the immediate circum- 
stances that had sprung up to widen the breach between the Gov- 
ernment and the Opposition ; and to hasten the grand crisis which 
was sooner or later to fall upon the nation like an avalanche. 
There were other causes, fundamental, of long but powerful action, 
gradually but surely alienating the mind of the nation from the 
Government, and preparing it for a grand revolt. To understand 
the exact posture of affairs at this time, it will be necessary to 
glance at these, even at the risk of becoming tedious. 

The luxurious expensiveness of the reign of Louis XIY, the 
li ;entious extravagance of Louis XV, together with the popular 

20* 



234 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

writers of those reigns upon tlie grandeur and beauty of freedom of 
thought and political equality, had prepared the way for the Revo- 
lution of 1789. The vacillating conduct of Louis XYI,the deranged 
state of the finances when he was called to the throne, and the success 
of the American Revolution, were circumstances that precipitated 
that mighty event. The insane fury of the revolution itself, the all- 
grasping ambition of Napoleon, and the success of the allied armies, 
restored the monarchy, but they did not quench the spirit of political 
freedom and human improvement in the national breast. The reap- 
pearance of Napoleon upon the soil of France revived the national 
sentiment for its old prestige of liberty, and at the approach of the 
new luminary, Louis XVIII. fled from his throne, like a shadow 
chased by the sun. The second defeat of the " Man of Destiny" 
placed the yoke of monarchy again upon the unwilling neck of the 
nation. As soon as the democratic spirit of the nation had had 
time to rally and combine its forces, Charles X. was repulsed from 
the throne of his ancestors. 

Lafayette, then the oracle of the free party, believing France 
not yet ripe for an unlimited repubhc, declared in favor of a con- 
stitutional monarchy, and Louis Phillippe, son of the atrocious 
egalite, was elected the " Citizen King," amid a profusion of prom- 
ises to obey the spirit of the nation. The country further imagined, 
that from the impulse imbibed from his jacobin father, in his own 
political predilections as shown in his public career, in his wis- 
dom gained in the school of experience, and in his knowledge of 
the fate of his predecessors, they had a sure guarantee of his de- 
votion to liberal principles. But in this they were to be doomed 
to utter disappointment. Louis Phillippe has strong claims lor 
respect and admiration upon the French nation, and upon the 
world ; but he did not fulfil the mission for which he wasg chosen. 
He possessed vast experience, a luminous intellect, and a liberal 



LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 235 



and liumane spirit. His family was a model of mental industry, 
moral purity, and domestic affection. He improved the system 
of public instruction, placing it upon a liberal basis, and gen- 
erously fostered all kinds of literary and humane institutions. 
He was a liberal patron of the arts, spending large sums of his 
private fortune for their promotion. He more than once pre- 
served the peace of Europe, when events threatened a general 
conflagration of war. He was magnanimous toward the fallen 
family of Napoleon. And the general spirit of his policy waa 
humane, liberal, and peaceful, calculated to promote the great 
branches of industry and the moral and intellectual improvement 
of the nation. Still, he neglected the great principle which placed 
him upon the throne ; and for this unpardonable dereliction, he 
was dreadfully punished. Several distinct acts of his reign may 
be cited to confirm this position. He usurped the elective fran- 
chise, by greatly narrowing the basis of popular representation. 
The Chamber of Peers became little more than a creation of the 
king, without independence of action, or true dignity. The Cham- 
ber of Deputies, the popular branch of the legislature, upon which 
the hopes of the nation relied to carry on the popular reform, lost 
its efficiency by the bestowment upon many of its leading members 
of a part of the enormous government-patronage in the hands of 
the king, to purchase their influence to the royal cause. He con- 
tracted a marriage between one of his sons and the sister of the 
Queen of Spain, in violation of a solemn treaty, thus endangering 
the peace of Europe. He surrounded Paris with stupendous for- 
tifications, at an enormous cost to the nation, with the ostensible 
purpose of protecting the capital from foreign invasion ; but doubt- 
less with the real design to give firmness to his own power. These 
are some of the acts which give an idea of his policy. For some 
time after his accession to the throne, he flattered the hopes of 



23b CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the l/oeral party. He was wont to mingle freely with the popu- 
lace, and occasionally to join in the chorus of the ^larsellaise. He 
educated his sons in the public schools, to identify them with the 
sympathies of the people. He sympathized with the Itahan and 
Spanish patriots; but Austria and Russia became alarmed at the 
danger of France becoming the centre of republican institutions 
in Europe, and the propagandist of liberal principles on the con- 
tinent. Envoys were immediately despatched from those powers 
to Paris. From this moment, the " Citizen King" seems to have 
taken his part. He gradually turned his back upon Lafayette, 
and Lafitte, to whom he owed his crown. He repudiated the pro- 
gramme of liberal principles, acknowledged by him at the Hotel 
de Ville, and fell back upon the Chatre as the limitation of con- 
stitutional power. He denied the professions of political faith 
which he had made in conversation with Lafayette ; — and he ap- 
plied, continually, the untiring energies of his powerful mind, the 
resources of France, and his own enormous private fortune, to 
the consolidation of his power and the perpetuation of his dynasty. 
The leading powers of Europe recognized his legitimacy, and en- 
tered with him into an alliance ; and with them as alhes, and the 
vast army of four hundred thousand men in France, he hoped to 
secure the permanency of his throne. But it proved that the 
spirit of human liberty is more powerful than armies. 

The disaifection in the nation had become general. The legi- 
timists regarded him as a usurper ; the liberal party looked upon 
him as a traitor; the press, — the more powerful in France as it is 
often conducted by the most eminent writers, — spread the grounds 
of discontent before the masses of the nation, and with that verve 
of eloquence peculiar to the French language in the hands of a 
skilful writer, excited all minds to revolt. Such was the jDosture 
of affairs in Februaiy, 1848, when the National Assembly were in 



CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 



2S7 



session to deliberate upon the affairs of tlie nation. It is true all 
was peaceful and harmonious without ; but penetrating minds well 
foresaw the certainty of an approaching crisis. Louis Phillippe 
had, indeed, the body of the nation in his hands ; but its spirit had 
eluded his grasp. 

The sessions of the Chamber of Deputies had become stormy, 
and the debate intensely fierce. The pending question of the 
right to hold the banquets, had drawn forth the leading talent of 
the Chamber, and this question was made a pretext for discussing 
the foreign policy of the nation. M. Guizot, the Prime Minister, 
and a consummate parliamentary orator, maintained the position 
of the government with a coolness and abihty that commanded 
universal admiration. The opposition orators, on their part, were 
by turns sarcastic and impassioned. M. Thiers charged the gov- 
ernment with yielding up Switzerland and Italy to the rapacious 
grasp of Austria, — thus lending the mighty power of the nation 
to retard the glorious march of enlightened freedom upon the 
Continent. " What ! " exclaimed Lamartine, in one of his noble 
bursts of eloquence, " shall France, the foremost country in pro- 
gress and freedom in the old world, side with despotic Austria, 
her old rival and foe, to crush the struggling spirit of freedom 
which France has crossed a sea of blood to protect, and leave to 
England the honor of advancing the liberties of the world ? " 
These speeches were spread rapidly over the country, and fell 
like firebrands among the already excited populace. Had some 
compromise been made at this critical juncture, the downfall of 
the monarchy might have been arrested; but the government 
seemed fated to its destruction. 

Feh. 11th. One of the Freres kindly accompanied me to one 
of the evening schools for journeymen and apprentices. Here 
I was cordially accosted by two teachers whom I had before 



238 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

met. One spoke a leetle English, as he termed it, and seemed 
proud of his enviable attainment. The school is composed prin- 
cipally of adults, although it has a juvenile class. Tiie appren- 
tices number not more than one-fiftieth of this class in the city ; yet 
the journeymen are as large a proportion as one-fifteenth. Most 
of the students whom I saw, were engaged in drawing, — and 
some of their specimens shown me, were fine. I inspected a mo- 
del steam engine, made entirely by a boy, after his daily task. It 
was ingenious and beautiful, but cost two years' effort. Several 
other equally curious specimens of work I had the gratification to 
inspect. They usually make the drawing in the class at school, and 
then model from it at home, at their leisure. The school is sup- 
ported by the government, and is entirely free. It cannot but 
prove a useful institution, and will doubtless be better patronized, 
when its merits are more fully appreciated. It had already 
been instrumental in calling forth native talent, which might other- 
wise have slumbered in the breast of its possessor. It moreover 
attests the paternal care of the government. 

Feb. IStk. In my ramblings to-day, I accidentally stumbled 
upon the Palais de la Bourse, or Merchants' Exchange. It is a 
magnificent edifice, standing in the middle of a handsome square, 
surrounded by shade-trees. It is of recent construction, having 
been commenced only in 1808. The plan of the building pre- 
sents a parallelogram two hundred and twenty-five feet in length, 
by one hundred and thirty-four in width, surrounded by a fine pe- 
ristyle of sixty-six Corinthian columns, raised upon an elevated 
basement. A gallery, ornamented with bass-reliefs, emblematical 
of the operations of commerce, extends quite around the building. 
The interior has a single grand hall, for the free intercourse of the 
sons of Mammon. There is, however, a small space of a circular 
form, and surrounded by a railing, in the south part of the room, 



CALAIS DE LA BOURSE. 239 

allotted to the salesman of stocks, to separate him from the crowd. 
Sales were going on at the time. A number of persons pressed 
closely around the enclosure just alluded to, while a man within 
was conducting the sale with half-frantic gestures, and with most 
intense and impetuous earnestness. The competition among the 
buyers was apparently so eager and furious, that the bids appeared 
simultaneous. The vaulted arch of the edifice, by some principle 
of acoustics, increased and reverberated the sound, which rolled 
along the spacious room, through the gallery into the decorated tri- 
bunes, in a commingled and deafening roar. The scene appeared 
to me incomprehensible and ludicrous. I could not for the life of 
me perceive how the salesman could distinguish between the bids, 
so great was the confusion and the interminable roar of sound ; 
but the ear can become betrained to wonders. 

Feb. I2>th. The day was fine, and the atmosphere soft. It 
being the first really spring-like day since my arrival, the efl^ect 
upon my feelings was such as to tempt me out for a stroll amid 
some of the charming environs of Paris. In passing through the 
garden of the Tuileries and the Champs Elysees, it became evi- 
dent that my feelings were shared by many others. Those en- 
chanting resorts were thronged with persons of different sexes and 
ages, eager to di'ink in the first incense of the early dawn of the 
approaching spring. In the garden of the Tuileries, my heart 
was gladdened by the sight of covies of rosy children prettily 
and tastefully dressed. They were gambolhng about on the 
smooth walks, as happy in their fresh and sunny existence, as the 
most joyful nature could desire. They were attended, of course, 
by their nurses, tidily dressed, who with a sedate aspect appeared 
to have one eye upon their knitting, or some other light work, 
while the other, glistening with moisture, was peering after the 
dear little loving creatures, their tiny wards and adopted idols. In 



240 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



some fainily groups were infants borne by servants, — the former 
of whom appeared not unapt emblems of the approaching spring, 
just budding into a hopeful existence. In the Champs Eljsees, 
thousands of elegantly dressed people, with countenances beaming 
with agreeable sensations, were gaily promenading the wide ave- 
nues, or indolently sauntering under the majestic elms that line 
the walks, or gazing with delight upon the groups of statuary with 
which this paradise is graced, — or, perhaps voluptuously reclining 
upon the seats, watching the varied throng, and yielding to the de- 
licious sensations which the scene and circumstances induced. 
From the Triumphal Arch, that fit emblem of the Great Cap- 
tain, I took my course by chance off to the northwest, and was 
almost immediately in an extended and charming grove. The 
ground here for any extent is as level as an artificial lawn. The 
trees of oak, locusts, and other varieties, and of less size than 
half-grown forests, had been carefully trimmed to present a neat 
and uniform appearance. No undergrowth was permitted to ob- 
struct the view of the passer, or to entangle the feet of the loiterer. 
This prim and smiling area of wood is handsomely intersected in 
various directions by wide avenues bordered by stately locusts, and 
presenting to the eye pleasing vistas narrowing off in the distance 
to the merest point. These avenues were everywhere thronged 
with neatly or elegantly attired promenaders, with countenances 
glowing with grateful emotions and the exhilarating effects of the 
genial atmosphere and the brisk exercise, — while there would oc- 
casionally roll past some pleasure-vehicle or family carriage, bear- 
ing steadily on, perhaps, some w^orld-exclusive individual, or per- 
chance a pleasure-dreaming couple, or more likely, a dignified 
family circle. Not unfrequently the scene was animated by a 
single equestrian or troop in graceful and chivalrous costume, 
sweeping proudly on. Here and there upon the road, or in the 



KEW FOETIFICATIONS OF PARIS. 241 

woods, might be seen or heard groups of country beaux and las- 
ses in their rustic but picturesque dress, chatting in lively mood, 
and occasionally making the silent woods ring with their peals of 
laughter, so clear and silvery, as well nigh to startle the wood- 
nymphs from their cozy retreats. As I proceeded on, there fre- 
quently gleamed through the slim trunks of the trees, a silvery 
sheet of water, or burst rapturously forth a fine chateau, beautified 
with the treasures of nature and art. I never experienced any- 
thing more delightful in the way of rural scenery ; and if I had 
been suddenly translated to the veritable Elysium, I could not 
have felt happier for the moment. Doubtless the change from 
the city, and other circumstances, had much to do in heightening 
the effect of the agreeable in the scene. 

On emerging from the Bois de Boulogne, on my return I spent 
a brief hour in observing a portion of the magnificent new fortifii- 
cations of Paris. The plan of the work consists of two distinct 
features, — a continuous enclosure, bastioned and terraced, around 
the whole city, with a line of wet ditches in front, and a system 
of detached fortresses, fourteen in number, outside. The detached 
forts are furnished with mortars that can reach the limit of a cir- 
cle more than six thousand feet in diameter ; and they are so situ- 
ated as to command every street, place, and house in the capital, 
except a space containing the palace of the Tuileries, the gardens, 
and a passage leading from the palace towards St. Germain, af- 
fording the royal family or government a way of escape, in case 
the fortifications should fall into the hands of an enemy. It is 
believed by military men, that they would not prove an impreg- 
nable barrier against an invading army, although most efficient in 
demolishing the city, or reducing it, by cutting oflf supplies. 

In 1841, one hundred and forty millions of francs, or about 
twenty-eight millions of dollars, were reluctantly appropriated by 

21 



242 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the Chamber of Deputies, for this grand war-measure ; and how 
much more has since been absorbed in the ambitious project, I 
am not able to say. From the commencement, the works were 
prosecuted amid strong opposition, with an energy unparalleled in 
the history of human exertion. The late king took a personal 
interest in their speedy completion, choosing to meet the expense 
of contracts from his private purse, rather than suffer any delay in 
their execution. It seems that the several rulers of France have 
sought to leave some grand monument of art, to illustrate their 
reign, — each vicing to surpass those who had preceded him, in 
grandeur and magnificence ; but these efforts here, as elsewhere, 
have often served to surround their memory with associations dif- 
ferent from what was intended by their authors. The enormous 
cost of St. Peter's church at Rome, ushered in the Reformation 
in Germany. The countless treasures expended on the Versailles 
Palace, was among the principal causes of the Revolution of 1789 ; 
while the fortifications of Paris, the grandest of the works of 
Louis Phillippe, proved but a treacherous power to expel him 
from his throne, to die in a foreign land. 

It was evening before I reached the Champs Elysees. A vast 
throng were silently sweeping along with me through the Avenue 
de Neuilly, as if eager to regain the fascinations of the voluptu- 
ous capital. The scene now on my return, though different, wa? 
hardly less striking than before. The gray folds of evening had 
invested the various prominent objects along the route, with a new 
aspect of admiration. The double row of lights along the ave- 
nue, gradually descending and narrowing in the distance, appeared 
like continuous ranges of glittering golden balls, suspended from 
the soft branches of the majestic elms above, through which the 
vesperian zephyrs were sighing with mellifluous cadence. Reaching 
the Place de la Concorde, I could not but pause and enjoy awhile 



CHAMPS ELYSEES. 



243 



the surrounding beauty. This magnificent spot combines a varied 
and powerful interest, arising from the unrivalled beauty of the 
place itself, its touching historical associations, and the splendid 
views of which it is the radiant focus. In the centre, upon the 
identical spot where was beheaded the good Louis XYI, as well 
as his lovely and lamented queen, rises the beautiful Egyptian 
obelisk, eighty feet high, a memorial of ages merged in the ob- 
livious past, upon which mortals, separated from us by the abyss 
of time, had gazed and thought. Tliis justly admired shaft, con- 
sisting of a single block of rose-colored granite, was cut and 
erected by Ramases I. and 11., and the shaft is covered with hiero- 
glyphics extolling the actions of that king or Sesostris. On either 
side were tw^o magnificent fountains, thought to be the finest in 
the w^orld, throwing up their pearly jets into the air from the 
mouths of sporting dolphins, swans and fish, held by swimming 
[Nereids and Tritons. Interspersed around were groujDs of statuary 
allegorical of the different towms of France, — from which the 
lights gleamed, heightening their eflfect. Through the trees com- 
posing the forests of the Champs Elysees were glimmering and 
flashing brilliant gas-lights of palaces and theatres, and of hun- 
dreds of moving carriages. To the east was the garden of the 
Tuileries, faintly illumined by the streammg light from the palace- 
windows. At other times you may see, now the superb colonnade 
of the Garde-Meuble, again the facade of the Madeline, or the 
magnificent portico of the Chamber of Deputies. 

Turning off from the Garden of the Tuileries, by a gate on the 
north, I w^as soon in the open square of the Palais Royal. A 
flood of light streamed from the windows of the numerous cafes 
and restaurants of this delectable spot. Entering one of the latter 
of humbler pretensions, I readily had my sharpened appetite ap- 
peased, by a frugal meal, but of dehcious quality, and served in 



2M CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



the most elegant style imaginable. It consisted, first of a plate 
of soup, second of fricaseed chicken, third of veal, and fourth, of 
fish ; bread at discretion ; for desert, was a plate of cakes served 
in cream, and all accompanied with a half-bottle of wine. The 
charge for the whole was but thirty-two cents. The dishes were 
brought in separately, and appeared to have been prepared ex- 
pressly for the meal, the moment before. To be sure, the quan- 
tity served on each plate was nicely small ; still, when I had eaten 
of ail, I was quite satisfied. I do not think the same meal could 
have been procured in Boston or New York for double the sum, 
notwithstanding the price of provision averages a third more at 
least in Paids, than in the United States. 

The estaminets, the restaurants, and the cafes, of Paris, are 
marked features in the capital. The traveller may search Eu- 
rope throughout, and he will find nothing to correspond with them ; 
and as for the United States, whatever may be found there, are 
but sorry imitations. The general distinctions between them are 
these : An estaminet is a place where tobacco is smoked, various 
sorts of beverage are drunk, and generally cards and billiards 
played. A restaurant is one, where breakfasts and dinners are 
eaten. A cafe is another, where breakfasts are taken, domiuos 
played, and where cofiTee, ices, and all refreshing drinks may at 
any hour be enjoyed. 

There are some four or five hundred cafes in Paris alone. Their 
different grades answer to the different ranks of society, from the 
cabinet-minister to the nameless sans culottes. In the quarter of 
the Sarbonne are cafes, frequented principally by the class of stu- 
dents ; others by professors; others still, by cabinet-ministers. 
Every theatre has in its vicinity a cafe. At these cafes, and 
likewise those of the Boulevard du Temple, principally congregate 
the actors, the actresses, and the dramatic authors of the time. 



CAFES OF PARIS. 245 



It is thus tliat the cafes answer in a measure the purpose of clubs; 
and some, where the hterati congregate, are still associated with 
the name of Yoltaire, Rousseau, and others, who with their pro- 
fessional friends, used there to assemble, and uncork their spirits 
and humor. 

These establishments are frequented by ladies, as well as gen- 
tlemen. In the best of them may frequently be seen elegantly 
dressed and well-behaved ladies, either alone, or in company T\dth 
friends, husbands and children. This mode of living is convenient, 
agreeable, economical, and gratifies their taste by enabling them 
to see the beau monde. The families of many of the respectable 
classes of merchants and professional men, and others, live in this 
way. They doubtless share a larger amount of social enjoy- 
ment in this way, than they could in any other. But the evil 
of the system is, that the Parisian has no home^ — and even 
has no word in his language to express the endearing place; 
— although social beyond all other men, he is yet not at all do- 
mestic. 

The Palais Royal is a quarter of the magnificent cafes. Some 
of these vie with the most gorgeous saloons of royalty, in taste and 
splendor. Let me attempt to introduce my reader to one of these. 
If it be the first time, you are at once dazzled with the view which 
presents itself. The room is spacious. The decorations in vari- 
ous parts are in such gorgeous profusion, that it recalls whatever 
you may have read of Persian magnificence. The ceiling and 
walls are elaborately wrought here and there into the most lovely 
frescos of birds and flowers, — fawns, nymphs, graces, and images 
in all fantastic forms. Four immense and gilded chandeliers 
hang from the ceiling. A tall candelabra rises in the centre of 
the room, and two beautiful lamps stand on the comptoir. These 
lights, illuminating these colors and this gilding, make the scene 
21* 



246 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

brilliant beyond description. And then the mirrors, so located 
as to double and redouble, yes, twenty times to reflect what has 
been described. It is not one cafe that you have seen to dazzle 
and enchant, but a score of them. 

As you enter, you politely raise your hat. The token of courtesy 
is recognized by the dame-de-comptoir by a gentle inclination so 
graceful, easy, and complaisant as not to be surpassed. This fair 
personage occupies, in another part of the room, a seat covered 
with velvet fine enough for a throne, behind an elevated desk with 
a marble top. She is the queen, the divinity, the presiding genius 
of the fairy place, and attends to its affairs, receiving strangers, 
directing servants, and arranging accounts, with a grace and 
promptness that no human being but a French woman could at- 
tain. This lady sits stately behind her comptoir. Two large silver 
vases stand in front of her, filled with spoons. At her right hand 
are several elegant decanters, and at her left a score of silver cups, 
lumped with sugar. There is, moreover, a little bell within her 
reach, to summon the gar.ron, and wide-open before her are the 
treasury-boxes of the cafe. Her influence, by her graceful pres- 
ence, tends to refine the wliole scene. The lady in question is 
dressed in exquisite taste, a mellow serenity beams from her coun- 
tenance, and there is an unconscious dignity and inimitable finesse 
in her whole bearing, that places her beyond corporeal hfe. Many 
a one of these cafe divinities is young and handsome, too, attract- 
ing thousands who flock thither, first to look at her ; secondly, to 
talk with her; and thirdly, to enjoy the delight of sipping Mocha 
in her presence. 

You select a large or small table, according as you are alone or 
with company. It is of white marble, and your seat of rich plush. 
In a moment the gar;on is at your elbow ; he inclines to your ear, 
and catches the word demi'tasse. He instantly reappears, and places 



CAFES OF PARIS. 247 



before you a snowj-wliite cup and saucer, and a little dish contain 
ing three or four lumps of sugar. Another garcon now appears. Tn 
his right-hand is a huge silver pot, covered, and in his left, another 
of the same material, uncovered. The former contains coffee, the 
latter, cream. The balmy hquid is clear, strong, and highly con- 
centrated, and when tempered with the sugar and heated cream, it 
becomes the finest beverage in the whole world. It agreeably af- 
fects several of the senses. Its liquid charms the gustatory nerves ; 
its savor rejoices the olfactory ; while even the eye is delighted 
wdth its sparkling hues. Yielding a moment to the pleasures of 
anticipation, you have time to survey the tout-ensemble of the gar- 
con. In his sphere he seems to you a beau ideal. His face has 
a balmy expression that enchants you. His hair is polished into 
ebon. His cravat is of purest white, and his shirt-bosom is equally 
elegant. His round-about is the pattern of neatness. Upon his 
left arm hangs a clean napkin, and his lower extremities are quite 
"wrapped about in a snowy apron. His stockings are white, and 
he glides about in noiseless pumps. He is a physiognomist of the 
keenest perceptions, for at your slightest intimation he is at your 
elbow. 

To prolong the delight of your cup, you employ the intervals 
between the sips, in perusing the journals. All the most notable 
are there ; and by mentionmg the name of your preference, it is 
speedily brought you. 

Having finished your coffee and journals, you spend a moment 
or two in surveying the company present. There may be fifty in 
the room, dressed with elegance and in the highest taste. They 
converse in a subdued tone, and you may hear all the languages 
in Europe. 

Tapping your cup with a piece of coin, the garcon approaches, 
and taking the money, advances with it towards the dame-du 



248 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD 



comptoir, saying at tlie same time, " huit-cent.'^ The dame-du- 
comptolr abstracts eight sous. The garcon returning your change, 
invariably looks forward to a smdM pour-hoire for himself. If you 
leave one sou, he merely inclines his head ; if }0u leave two, he 
adds to the inchnation a mercie ; finally, if you generously abandon 
three, he not only bows profoundly, whispering mercie^ but respect- 
fully opens the door to your departing. On going out, you will 
always look at the lady, and raise your hat. The quiet self- 
possession with which she responds to your civility informs you 
that she has bowed to half the coffee-drinkers in Europe. 

On returning to my lodgings, I passed the door of one of the 
more common dancing-saloons of the city. Parties were thronging 
in, some in masquerade, others not ; and I could not resist the 
temptation to look in upon the sight for a moment. It was the 
height of the carnival season of Paris ; and, as a consequence, the 
dancing-rage of this dancing people. They had evidently be- 
come worked up to the spirit of their favorite exercise ; and a 
traveller will select the most favorable period for his observations. 
The admittance was ten cents. The company were entu^ely young, 
and of the inferior sort of society. The spacious room was par- 
tially divided into several compartments, but wide central spaces 
were left for free communication. The dancing, which was already 
going on, was energetically brisk. All spaces were quite filled, 
partly with sets in motion, or lookers-on, standing. The orches- 
tra, in which violins greatly preponderated, were working their in- 
struments as if hfe depended on impetuous movement. They 
changed their tune often, running through perhaps twenty favorite 
airs in a single dance. The dancing was even more unique than 
the music. There were no systematic figures, — but a promiscu- 
ous assembling and changing, each moving as fancy led. The 
twirling, spinning, leaping, twisting, gliding across and around each 



THEATEE FEANCAIS. 249 



Other in babel-confusion, but witliout coming in contact, was fan- 
tastic enough, but not altogether unamusing. Each young man 
held his female partner firmly in a waltz-hke embrace, leading her 
rapturously into the spirit of the exercise, movmg whither whim 
listed, and changing his step or movement at the caprice of impulse. 
Indeed, it seemed often to be the part of the beau to surprise the 
other in some sudden turn of the body, exposing the lady unex- 
pectedly to some immodest attitude. I more than once detected a 
crimsoning on the already flushed cheek of some of the fair ones 
from this cause. There were, however, two or three buxom 
wenches among the crowd, who vanquished their partners in all 
their arts, — sometimes turning the joke. The whole scene struck 
me as inelegant, distasteful and debasing; though, of course, it can- 
not be mentioned as a specimen of how the divine art is generally 
practised in the graceful city. 

Feb. 15th. I spent the day in the " Conservatoire des Arts et 
Metiers," Rue St. Martin 208. It corresponds, in a measure, to 
the Patent Office at Washington, presenting an interesting collec- 
tion of specimens of machines, instruments and tools employed in 
the various kinds of manufactures and fabrications. It was de- 
voted in 1798 to the industrial arts, and has since contributed 
most singularly to their advancement. I observed there, among 
many other curious and interesting things, a simple, but beautiful 
mode of representing geometrical solids, by means of thread- 
wires. By the slight movement of a spring, the form was 
easily changed. It struck me as an improvement, and deserv- 
ing of being introduced as a valuable apparatus of the school- 
room. 

In the evening, I set off to witness the drama on the great na- 
tional stage of France, the Theatre Francais. Arriving early, 1 
whiled away the spare moments in making a tour in the square of 



250 CKESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



the Palais Eoyal. The delightful place M^as filled with groups, 
promenading, lounging, or reading the journals, hired of the little 
boutiques, so accommodatingly scattered near all the public prom- 
enades of the city. Children of the lower class were venting 
their joyous nature in juvenile sports. Miniature men, they 
showed the same spirit of rivalry and passion as persons of 
greater stature. 

Determined on a choice seat, I was still early in the queue, 
within the barricade leading to the entrance of the theatre. In the 
tail were some women, w^ell dressed, but the most respectful de- 
meanor prevailed. When the door opened we passed in comforta- 
bly, and I took a richly plushed seat in the parquet, separated 
only by the distance of a foot, or so, from the narrow space in 
front appropriated to the nobiliiy. 

The first play was entitled "The Mother-in-law and the-Son-in- 
law." It was a pretty piece, and neatly played ; but observing 
nothing striking in its character or performance, I very happily 
reserved my admiration for the following play, and with one eye 
surveyed leisurely the beautiful room and select compan}'-. 

The room, of elliptical form, is surrounded by three rows of 
Doric columns, grouped in the first row, isolated in the two others. 
From the centre rises the statue of Voltaire. Beautiful and ap- 
propriate carvings, gildings, and frescos, lend a classical elegance 
and charm to the entire room. The company appeared intellectual 
and of easy manners, but not extremely dressed. Indeed, their 
manner and costume bore an elegant negligence, characteristic of 
the more independent classes. But they practised one custom not 
easily reconciled with their otherwise evident propriety of de- 
meanor — that of staring at each other in the intervals of the 
scenes. For this purpose, each was provided, not with a small, 
neat, golden-rimmed eye, or quizzing glasSj such as may sometimeg 



THEATEE FEANCAIS. 251 



be seen in the delicate hand of some acknowledged belle, at public 
assemblies in the U. States, but huge, double-barreled spy-glasses, 
from two to four inches deep, strongly connected, called lunettes. 
With this, the double-eyed starer would often stand upon his feet, 
direct his artificial eyes at different persons in the galleries, sur- 
veying the company with all the coolness and deliberation of a 
naval quarter-master. It was a httle peculiar to notice luxuriant- 
looking mammas with their blooming daughters in the galleries, 
thus broadly gazing at the opposite sex below and around them. 
A stranger to the practice might have been led to ask himself, if 
the same action without the lunette would have been considered by 
these genteel people within the pale of good breeding ? — O ! 
no, indeed ! — but then, it is the fashion, and there is no disputing 
the empire of so supreme a ruler. 

The orchestra was small, but apparently extremely select. The 
performers were all very young, — mere boys, seemingly, — and 
violins prevailed. The music was consequently soft. They 
seemed chary of their efforts, favoring the company with but few 
pieces during the evening, but when they did play, ample amends 
were made for their silence. I have no words that, — however 
dexterously placed upon this unsounding sheet, — can more than 
faintly symbolize its exquisite character — its ecstatic effect upon 
the heart I As they struck up, my every nerve was thrilled. The 
silken, leaping strains came stealing into every pore of my soul. 
So graceful, so touching, so trembhngly inspiring were the ca- 
dences, that the music often seemed but the silver echoes of some 
far off melody. I had never heard anything so fine. 

Tiie second piece was entitled " The Puff, or Mensonge," an 
inimitable satire upon the amiable and conventional deception per- 
vading all classes in Paris. It was one of Eugene Scribe's hap- 
piest efforts, and the pubhc had acknowledged the successful hit 



252 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

by giving it a run. I had previously purchased the play, and 
conned it by heart, with the view the better to mark nice points of 
pronunciation. I thought I was familiar with its beauties ; but I 
soon found, that reading a good French play, and hearing it ad- 
mirably performed, are quite different things. Soon after the 
performance began, my pencil dropped to the floor, and the printed 
pamphlet soon followed ; the absorbing interest of the perform- 
ance holding me quite entranced throughout. I do not know how 
successful the French are in tragedy, but I am sure that in the 
higher comedy they are inimitable, and beyond praise. The fe- 
licities of thought are so intermingled with fehcities of language, 
as not to be peaceably divorced. There is, moreover, in the 
style of the performance a piquancy, a raciness that is quite enchant- 
ing. In this play, each of the artistes seemed a star^ and went 
through his part with a propriety, ease and self-possession, truly 
wonderful I have seen nothing, at all to be compared to it, in a 
similar performance in any other nation. The whole scene was to 
me a beau ideal of genteel discourse and elegant manners, en- 
livened with the most pleasingly pointed wit. 

The costume of the players was the perfection of simple ele- 
gance. There was not thi'oughout the entire performance a single 
posture or gesture, that would not have graced the most fash- 
ionable and elegant saloon; and, with a single exception, not a 
word or phrase that would have offended the most fastidiously 
modest ear. The whole scene was thoroughly divested of the 
rant, the strut, the affectation of manner and language, the leers 
of double-meaning, the coarse wit and artificial tone which charac- 
terize our American boards, and render, with us, the theatre intol- 
erable even to the passionate lover of the drama. I left strongly 
impressed with the beautiful picture of French character embodied 
in French forms, French voices, and French gestures ; but I re* 



LECTURES AT THE SAEBONNE. 253 



membered tliat this was the Eojal Theatre, and that the purity 
and excellence of its performance might be traced to the refined 
and elevated taste of the family of Louis Phillippe. 

Feb. 11th. I spent most of the time of the preceding two days 
in attendance upon the lectures at the Sarbonne. These lectures are 
in the same style of perfection in which everything is done in Paris. 

The lecturers, who are professors, are chosen from among the 
most eminent men in their several walks of learning. They are 
furnished every facility for perfecting their knowledge, and allowed 
every means for illustrating their subjects. The courses cannot, 
therefore, but prove highly instructive, powerfully interesting, and 
deeply valuable. They are, also, entirely free. Hence, the rooms 
are thronged with eager students from all parts of the world. 

One of the most interesting of these lectures was upon the life 
and character of Christopher Columbus. I had read any number 
of accounts of the world-renowned Genoese before, but it is need- 
less to add, that I received a clearer perception of his life, and a 
higher appreciation of his character from the hands of the French 
historian. The noble discoverer received, without doubt, a well- 
merited tribute to his transcendent genius, unparalleled daring, 
unconquerable perseverance, humane spirit, and generous and 
lovely qualities of heart ; but it was the way in which the subject 
was treated which gave the discourse its peculiar power and 
beauty. The plan was so perfect and so scrupulously adhered to, 
the principles of action were so philosophically developed, the va- 
rious adventures and incidents were so artistically grouped, the 
propitious circumstances so consummately arranged, and the whole 
enlivened with such matchless felicities of thought and expression, 
as to form a bright, living picture, — distinct, vivid, glowing ; de- 
lighting the taste and fancy, and filling the heart with good and 
noble aspirations. 

22 



254 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



Another, more striking still, was by M. Frank. His course 
was upon the modern social systems, and the one I heard, upon 
that of the celebrated Fourier. When I entered, the room was 
crowded. Lively expectation was depicted on every countenance. 
In a moment, the lecturer darted in, and instantly was in his seat, 
speaking. A burst of fervent but subdued applause greeted his 
entrance. He was comparatively a young man, — his talents and 
industry having evidently outstripped his age, and brought him in 
favor with the government. His attenuated limbs revealing a form 
bringing to mind shapen bundles of nerves, — the long, skinny 
fingers of the hand, the sharp, nervous features of the face, an 
eye beaming with the very soul of genius, and the whole person 
gently agitated with a nervous tremor, as if invested with a halo 
of thought, gave to his appearance a vivid impressiveness that en- 
chained the attention, and heightened the effect of his eloquence. 
As the first word dropped from his lips, there was a hush of still- 
ness that no eager interest and expectation could have surpassed : 
and, to the end, all was keen and breathless attention, save when 
a gleam of attic wit arrowed forth from the address ; and then, the 
momentary excitation it produced was so brief, so suddenly re- 
pressed, as to show that each felt fearful of allowing a single word 
to escape, which would be like the loss of an irreplaceable pearl 
in a priceless coronet. His enunciation was most distinct, though 
his cadences were uniform and almost unvaried. He, never hesi- 
tated for a moment, nor repeated himself, but marched right on 
with a steady, equable movement, resembling that of a train of 
cars at a distance, passing over a gently undulating surface. 

But the peculiar fascination and power of his style lay in the 
wonderful concentration and concatenation of thought, and the 
matchless vivacity with which the ideas glowed and sparkled in 
the mind's eye of the listener. In this respect, his discourse was a 



FKEE LECTURES. 255 



strongly hammered chain, of wliich, each link was intensely welded, 
and the whole polished into the brightness of silver. It seized at 
once your mind, rivetted it by the force of association, and bore 
it through the argument with the involuntary power of natural 
laiv, and with the delectable grace of matchless harmony. Every 
word was so fitly chosen that its sound, even, echoed forth its sense 
and lent additional force to the beauty of the thought, — forming 
a mental picture vivid and delightful. There was something, 
moreover, in the very dignity and grace of the movement, — the 
power and felicitation of the mien, — a kind of radiant lustre, 
drawing in, and charming your faculties, keeping the soul in an 
unceasing titillation of deHsrht. 

The system of Fourier was dissected with a consummation that 
made you tremble. You felt that it were terrible to fall under the 
knife of such an anatomist. The flesh was parted, the bones dis- 
jointed, the marrow penetrated, — even the invisible soul scanned 
with an eye of fire, and a hand of deathless energy. Although the 
entire discourse was characterized by the very spirit of truthful- 
ness and impartiality, yet there was such an inimitable skill dis- 
played in tracing the juxtapositions and inductions of the author, 
and in detecting the invisible discrepancies of his subtle philoso- 
phy, that the great socialist was often seen in a light that irresisti- 
bly moved you to pity or laughter. 

The hour's entertainment was more than an intellectual feast, 
— it was a spiritualized banquet ; and on leaving, I began to un- 
derstand the meaning of the glowingly expectant look of the 
audience when I entered. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

GEN. SCOTT UNDER ARREST — PUBLIC OPINION OMNIPOTENT IN 
THE UNITED STATES — AN AMBIGUOUS CHARACTER — PARISIAN 
MORALS — LOVELESS MARRIAGES — LEFT-HAND MARRIAGES — 
LEGALIZED VICE — OPEN PROSTITUTION — HOSPICE D'AC- 
COUCHEMENT — HOSPICES DES ENFANS TROUVERS — CAUSES, 
ETC. — MANUFACTORY FOR THE CROWN TAPESTRY — PALAIS 

ROYALE — SUMPTUOUS INTERIOR SPLENDID GARDEN 

CHAPEL OF ST. FERDINAND. 

The French Journals mentioned, to-clay, tlie trial of Gen- 
eral Scott in Mexico, — the scientific, the gallant commander-in- 
chief of our armies, whose consummate military skill, crowned 
with splendid victories, had extorted warm eulogies from many 
eminent military men of Europe, under arrest, and being tried by 
a court composed of his inferior officers ! The bare idea was 
enough to arouse the indignation of an American abroad ! 

What strange vagary of Fame and Fortune was this ! The 
Americans were severely condemned, of course, by the Eng- 
lish and European press, for the Mexican war ; and what was 
really unjust, a sentiment of unscrupulous aggression attributed 
to the whole nation, — which, if it existed at all, was shared only 
by a part, and perhaps a minority, of the nation. But when our 
armies, under their skilful leaders, began to shed glory even upon 
the Anglo-Saxon race, and writers abroad were lavish of their 
praise of Yankee capability, one began to have a self-gratulatory 



GENERAL SCOTT. 257 



feeling, that tardy justice was being done to the genius of our re- 
public. But here was being enacted a drama so farcical in idea, as 
to make one doubt if the whole account given of those proudly 
martial deeds enacted in gorgeous Mexico, were not some splendid 
illusion created by that enchantment to which distance is said to give 
rise. It was not enough that the glorious old Taylor, after un- 
furling and carrying steadily forward against odds, the banner of 
his countrymen, and in an urgent crisis, shorn of the flower of his 
force, should be left unintentionally to deepen the dye of his immor- 
tality in a battle which brings to mind that of Thermopylse of old ; 
but here was Scott himself, who had marched through the renowned 
strongholds of Mexico, witli a Napoleon-like rapidity of execution, 
and planted his standard in the very square surrounded by the 
halls of the Montezumas, all at once shorn of his lofty plumes, 
snatched defyingly away from the magnificent halo by which he 
was a moment before surrounded, and treated like any humble 
mortal. Well, it may have the effect to show to Europeans, what 
it seems quite difficult for them to understand, namely, that in the 
United States public opinion is omnipotent, — and that talents 
never so great, genius never so resplendent, or services never so 
glorious, cannot screen a man from the closest scrutiny of the pub- 
lic eye, or prevent his being called to the bar of popular judgment. 

In going to my lodgings to-night, I was equivocally accosted in 
a delicately coaxing tone and manner, by a young woman, who 
appeared as if just issuing from an obscure court. Without be- 
stowing upon her further attention than a furtive glance, just to 
scan truthfully her features and person, she did not, however, re- 
peat her intimations. She was neatly but rather gaily attired. 
Her countenance, which was mild, and not altogether unpleasing, 
was marked with no obvious trace of a feeling of shame or guilt. 

This comparatively unimportant incident would hardly be worth 
22* 



258 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

recording, but as being suggestive of a topic, which, if obnoxious to 
an un-semle modesty, has yet so fundamental a bearing upon the 
socially moral condition of a nation, as to claim the attention of 
the traveller who would impart valuable information touching the 
people about whom he undertakes to write. 

If we were to credit the statements of some English tourists of 
name, we should be left to form a sad picture of the social morals 
of Paris. But it should be borne in mind, that travellers who 
are capable of giving to the public distorted views of society in 
the United States, would hardly be less reckless or prejudiced in 
their portraitures of a people against whom deep enmity has be- 
come firmly rooted by ages of war, rivalry, and the more irrecon- 
cilable influence still, of diverse natures. 

Yet, however overshaded these pictures may have been, 
through the prejudice and enmity of a certain class of travellers, 
still the truth would make them dark enough to be greatly de- 
plored. 

It must be admitted, in the first place, that the holy institution 
of marriage is neither regarded nor observed in France with that 
feeling of pure, single devotion, which its sacredly important na- 
ture claims. Not that there are no exceptions to this remark. 
Indeed, I was informed by reliable gentlemen, foreigners, who had 
resided a long time in Paris and in the country, that in their de- 
liberate opinion, in no other country could be found so beautiful 
instances of conjugal fidelity, or strong domestic affections ; and 
that in this respect, the best French society is a delightful picture 
of what is most charming in domestic life. Still, it is most noto- 
rious that the violation of marriage and chastity are tolerated with 
a facility in France not done in England nor in the United States. 
It might be no easy task to trace all the causes that have contrib- 
uted to form this ungracious feature in the national character ; but 



MARRIAGES OF CONVENIENCE. 259 

among them may be enumerated tlie ardor of temperament and 
the facihty of the French character, modified by climate, scenery, 
and a class of associations adapted to fire the imagination ; the 
sensitive nature of the French taste, which repels the object of its 
adoration with the same vehemence that once attracted it ; the ir- 
resistible influence of licentious courts and dissolute nobilities ; 
the corrupting agency of a vitiated literature, by which genius, 
wedded to a classical power by the most fascinating approaches, 
has poisoned the well-springs of innocent thought ; the removal, 
for a time, from the conscience, the sacred weight of Divine obli- 
gation, by the abrogation of a national religion. But a more pal- 
pable cause may doubtless be found in those ever-to-be-accursed 
unions called manage de convenance, or as appropriately, loveless 
marriages, so common among the middling and higher classes of 
society. These are usually contracted by the parents, or even by 
the parties themselves, in view of the eligibility of the match, and 
with little or no regard to the affections of the parties, or even 
consulting their tastes and dispositions. Where there is but one 
true marriage, and that the union of sentiment, the reciprocal bap- 
tism of the affections, the magic welding of heart and heart, all 
such sordid arrangements as manages de convenance, whether in 
France or elsewhere, could not be expected to yield else than bit- 
ter fruits. Indeed, fidelity could not be expected, if it should be 
desired, amid the damps of such prison mildew. It were almost 
cruel thus to bind the tender, the susceptible heart, yearning tor a 
spiritual congeniality in which to lave its sickened life. Hence, 
marriage in France is but too often an endorsed apology for free- 
dom according to fancy. Indeed, a married lady is almost ex- 
pected to have her private lover ; and this barely clandestine corn- 
merge has become so completely established in the mind of society 
as to have begot certain rules of observance — a kind of principle 



260 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



of honor — wliicli would seem not unlike that noble quality .said 
to exist among thieves. 

Somewhat akin to this mode of wedded life, and infinitely more 
reasonable, as well as fruitful of conjugal felicity, are those tem- 
porary liasons or mariages de St, Jacques, better known to the 
English reader as left-handed marriages. In a country where 
fortunes are for the most part small, and where the precariousness 
of remunerative employment does not permit the masses of the poor 
easily to encounter the obligations of family, marriages must have 
their limits. A vast variety of single ladies, therefore, without 
fortunes, still remain, many of whom are naturally led to be guilty 
of the indiscretion of a lover, though they have no husband to 
deceive. They are wont to take upon themselves an affection, 
to which they remain faithful so long as the intimacy lasts. Many 
respectable young men, merchants, lawyers, etc., of moderate in- 
comes, live until they are rich enough to marry, in some connection 
of this description. Sanctioned by custom, these unions of expe- 
diency are to be found with a certain respectability belonging to 
them, in all walks of life. The working classes, in particular, 
have their somewhat famous mariages de St. Jacques, which, among 
themselves, at least, are highly respectable. The laborer and 
washerwoman, for instance, find it cheaper and more comfortable 
to take a room together. They rent a chamber, put in their joint 
furniture (one bed answers for both), a common menage and purse 
are established, and the couple's affection endures at least as long 
as their lease. 

Another institution still lower in the scale of moral delinquen- 
cies, is the system of legalized public prostitution existing in Paris. 
This is not peculiar to Paris, but exists in common in the cities 
of Europe ; and the Parisian will urge that it was not intended 
to sanction vice, but only to regulate what must necessarily exist 



HOSPICES DES ACCOUCHEMENTS. 26] 

still it can justly be objected, that the very fact of its being brouo-hi 
under the wing of the police, and regulated as are respectable in- 
stitutions, gives the sanction of the government to the vice. The 
authority of law steps in to break down that acute and profound 
sense of morality which with us banishes from society, without the 
possibility of restoration, the female who has committed decidedly 
one false step. The pubHc sense of morality is necessarily brought 
down by publicly trafficking with vice. Whatever conveniences 
the system may have, its effect upon the public mind cannot but 
be evil. 

Then there is the abandoned class of females who seek a clan- 
destine commerce. Although they are much less seen by the 
cursory observer, than even in the large cities of England and 
America, still their number doubtless is quite large. 

As a finishing-stroke to the above-named customs, and without 
which they could not flourish luxuriantly and with grace, come in 
the establishments termed Hospices des Accouchements and Hospices 
des Enfans trouves. The former, or lying-in hospitals, may be seen 
w^ith emblazoned signs in various parts of the city. They furnish 
secret and comfortable resorts, where women enciente may f|nd, for 
a moderate price, the best of care and treatment, until they are suf- 
ficiently restored from the ills and danger of child-bed, — the lat- 
ter, or foundling-hospital, where infants whose parents are willing 
or necessitated to abandon them, are placed, to be taken care of at 
the public charge. Here, these little government-adoptives are 
nursed, nurtured, and afterwards distributed about the country to 
learn useful branches of industiy. Many of them do well. This 
establishment, as well as many others of the hospitals of Paris, is 
under the care of the Sisters of Cliarity, whose self-sacrificing 
benevolence is justly a theme of praise. The founder of the lat- 
ter establislmaent was St. Vincent de Paul. He commenced hj 



262 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

seeking out tlie abandoned children of the city. These institutions 
divide the opinion of travellers. A stern moralist, regarding their 
little inmates as the fruits of illicit love, would be apt to look upon 
the system with horror. A practical man, viewing society as it is, 
mio-ht come to a different conclusion. He would, at least, see in 
the institution, the means of saving a vast amount of life, and of 
ameliorating much human suffering. That they prevent a great 
amount of infanticide, cannot be questioned ; but that they facili- 
tate the crime they are designed to amehorate, admits neither of 
doubt. 

In estimating the state of morality in the nation, Paris must 
not be taken as a faithful index of the entire country ; for, however 
true the remark, that Paris is France in politics, the capital can 
by no means be given as a measure of the nation's morals. There 
are several causes that have powerfully operated to render Paris 
peculiar in its moral and social tone. The religious sentiment 
which was extinguished from view in Paiis, has ever preserved 
at least a glimmering in the Pro\ances. Paris, like ancient Rome, 
is the receptacle of much of the inflammable elements of Euro- 
pean society. The rich of the nations of the world throng there 
for pleasure, and seek much of that pleasure in vice. The cen- 
tralization of the government of France, concentrates its principal 
functionaries in the capital, many of whom become in time mere 
pensioned voluptuaries. 

The principal youth of the country, belonging to the rich, as 
well as many from abroad, resort to Paris for their education ; 
while thousands flock thither for employment in shops, warehouses, 
and offices. Some seventy or eighty thousand troops are always 
present in the city and vicinity. The desperate in fortune, or 
ruined in reputation, eagerly resort to the capital, the former like 
vampires to prey upon society, and the latter to retreat from th© 



MORALS OF PARIS. 263 



circle in which they had been known, and to sink lower in the 
depths of degradation. 

Yet, notwithstanding these hot-bed influences of moral disease 
in France, and more especially in Paris, illegitimacy there is, ac- 
cording to an intelligent traveller, Professor Laing, more rare than 
even in Prussia. 

The easy footing upon which society stands and moves in Paris, 
arrests with agreeable surprise the attention of the traveller. The 
stranger there enjoys unusual freedom to go whither he pleases, 
and do as he will, by preserving the grace of politeness. 

The modest manners of the French women are proverbial. 
They are a fragrant theme of general praise. The delightful vir- 
tue is seen both in their bearing and dress. Whatever immorality 
may exist in private, scarcely a vestige of it is exposed to public 
gaze. External decency, at least, prevails to a degree not else- 
where to be found. A stranger would never see in the streets of 
Paris an instance of the unblushing shamelessness, the utter deg- 
radation, that shocks the stranger in the streets of London, at al- 
most every step, after nine o'clock at night. This exquisite deco- 
rum of mien which pervades all classes, from the voluptuous queen 
of the ambiguous saloon, to the washerwoman of the Seine, gild- 
ing society with a rosy tint of lustre, may be traced, in part at 
least, to the peculiar sentiment of virtue which exists. Not being 
considered a crime as much as elsewhere, incontinence does not 
bring down the mind to the level of crime. It is looked upon more 
as a matter of taste ; and the fair one guilty of indiscretion, not 
being rejected from society, does not lose her self-respect, but 
evinces in all her intercourse, the usual amenities of polite and 
dignified life. 

In this respect it must be confessed that the French are cer- 
tainly more consistent than are we. We tolerate in mtn a vice 



261 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

which we unmitigatingly punish in woman, by banishing her en 
iirelj from the pale of decent society. The French, more just, 
3xtend the same privilege to both sexes. 

I visited on February 19 th, the celebrated manufactory for the 
Crown Tapestry. It is the most magnificent establishment of the 
kind in France, if not in Europe. Carpets are made here, which, 
in elegance, in correctness of design, choice and variety, rival those 
produced even in Persia in her palmiest days. Some of these 
costly floor-coverings, of no more than medium size, were valued 
as high as three thousand dollars. It is evident that only kings, 
prmces, and millionaires can possess so expensive luxuries to grace 
the tread of the feet. 

Numerous artisans were closely engaged in their indefatigable 
labors. The warp of the carpet was stretched in a perpendicular 
frame, and the filling was woven in with the fingers and a bodkin. 
The process is thus necessarily slow, tedious, and even painful. 
Hence the enormous cost of the fabrication. The gorgeousness 
of the fabric was beautifully heightened by the brilliant lustre of 
the colors imparting to it an almost dazzling splendor. 

But the most interesting and wonderful application of the art 
consists in transferring pictures, painted upon canvas, to tapestry, 
and preserving, with exact faithfulness, the lineaments and shading 
of the original. Indeed, the transfer is so exact, that you would 
distinguish no difference between them, except that the copy bears 
the lifelike freshness of an improved edition. The process with the 
artisan, it is evident, is almost entirely mechanical ; but it implies 
a nice discrimination in colors, and an exquisite skill of execu- 
tion, acquired only by long practice. The art is valuable as a 
means of wresting, from the hands of time, fading gems of the old 
masters. I noticed several portraits, thus transferred, of members 
oi the late royal family ; and I should never have known, without 



PALACE ROYAL. ' £65 



a close inspection, but that they were vivid paintings upon 
canvas. 

A very paternal measure passed to-day in the Chamber of Peers, 
after a discussion, animated to a degree not usual in that body, — 
regulating the labor of the working classes. According to the 
provisions of the bill, children cannot be permitted to labor in 
manufacturing establishments, under eight years of age ; and be- 
tween that period and twelve, they must not be employed more 
than eight hours in a day ; and adults cannot be employed more 
than twelve hours. It is wise, as well as benevolent in the gov- 
ernment thus to protect short-sighted indigence from the reckless 
rapacity of mammon. 

Sunday, 20th. After services at the Oratoire, I made a visit to 
the Palace Eoyal. Sunday is the day, par excellence, for visiting 
the palaces and other public monuments of Paris ; and I found 
the interior thronged with visitors of every class of society. The 
largest part of the company, however, were well-dressed and in- 
telligent looking ladies and gentlemen of the traveller type ; and 
I heard some half a dozen different languages. 

It is called the Palace Royal because Louis XIV. lived here in 
his youth. Its construction was commenced by the Cardinal 
Richelieu, who improved and adorned it by degrees as his fortune 
improved, until he judged it not unworthy to be presented to the 
splendid monarch, Louis XIV, which he did in a testament at his 
death. The king bequeathed it, in his turn, to his brother, the 
Duke of Orleans, from whom it descended to the late Louis Phil- 
lippe, and was occupied by the latter as a private residence, but 
furnished in a style of royal magnificence. 

A beautiful stairway leads to the first stage, which is divided 
into three apartments, namely, those of the centre, occupied by 
the late king and queen before 1830 j the apartments of the left, 
23 



266 CEESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

appropriated to Madame Adelaide, the sister of the king ; those 
of the right, destined for the prince rojaL The left-wing compri- 
ses a vast dining-room, several grand saloons, and beautiful cabi- 
nets. The centre includes the saloon for the aids-de-camp, that 
of reception, the cabinet of the king, the apartment of the queen, 
and the hall of the throne. A magnificent gallery leading to the 
apartment of the late Duke of Orleans, occupies a part of the left- 
wing. The library, situated on the same side, is placed partly in 
the niterstole and partly in the first stage. 

"We were conducted through the palace by neatly hveried hus- 
siers, who seemed impressed with the dignity of their office. The 
rooms were nearly destitute of carpets and furniture ; but enough 
furnishing remained to show the former sumptuousness. The hall 
of the throne, in particular, was very rich. The floor, of hard- 
wood, was so smoothly polished as to make it necessary to walk 
with care. The ceilings were richly painted and gilded. 

The walls of the several apartments were adorned with paint- 
ings ; some of them possessing rare merit. Among the historical 
pieces, were Julius Cesar going to the Senate, The Victory of 
Marathon, "William Tell jumping out of the boat with Gesler, and 
several more modern scenes, in which Maria Theresa, of Austria, 
figures conspicuously. She is represented in attitudes expressive 
of strong emotion and intense energy. There are, besides, several 
portraits of distinguished personages ; among them, those of Na- 
poleon, Charles Y, Madame de Stael, J. J. E-ousseau, and the sev- 
eral members of the family of Louis Phillippe. 

But what attracts more attention at the present time is the gar- 
den, with the exterior gallery of the palace. The beautiful en- 
closure formerly occupied a larger area than at present; as it 
comprehended, besides the present garden, the streets of Yalois, 
de Montspensier, and de Beaujolais, as well as that space now oc- 



CHArEL OF Sr. FERDINAND. 267 



cupied by the sides of the Palais, which have been more recently 
built. It was adorned with an alley of mulberry trees, which alone 
cost the Cardinal Richelieu sixty thousand dollars ; but the old revo- 
lution destroyed them. The place was once infamous for its 
gambling-houses, and the throngs of doubtful characters that 
swarmed in it of an evening ; but the late government banished 
these, and the galleries are now occupied with brilliant cafes, and 
small, but magnificent bazaars. These are the fashionable shops 
of the city ; and they are rich and beautiful beyond description. 
All that can tempt the luxurious, or please the vain ; whatever 
can inspire admiration for the industry of man, for his exquisite 
taste ; his creating genius ; his skill in producing the elegant, the 
beautiful, the magnificent ; in fine, whatever can delight the eye, 
captivate the senses, or add charms to beauty, are here displayed. 
One of these small shops rents for three or four thousand francs 
a year. The chairs, alone, placed in the garden for the con- 
venience of loungers, are said to give a revenue of eighty thou- 
sand francs. To see this enchanting spot in all its brilliancy you 
should go at night, when countless lamps pour floods of light 
through its delicious gardens and long arcades ; when its walks 
are alive with gay promenaders, and its multitude of shops, cafes, 
and offices are in the full tide of business. It is then, indeed, a 
scene resplendent with gaiety, bustle and animation. 

After finishing the tour of the Palais Royale, I made a visit to 
the Chapel of St. Ferdinand. This beautiful edifice was erected 
some eight years ago, to mark the spot and event of the death of 
the Duke d'Orleans, the eldest son of Louis Phillippe, and heir 
apparent to the throne of France. In returning home from an 
afternoon drive, his horses became restive and unmanageable, and 
leaping from his carriage he fell and fractured his skull, — sensi- 
bility was destroyed, and after two or three hours, death ensued. 



268 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



The event was the more affecting, as the disposition and high and 
noble qualities of the prince made him not only greatly beloved of 
his family, but rendered him a favorite with the entire nation. 

The estate was purchased by the king, and on the very spot 
where he died, this chapel was erected. It is a gem of architec- 
ture — the exterior tasteful, and the interior simple. A narrow 
space, beautifully laid out, and adorned with a triple row of Ar- 
borvitas trees, leads to the entrance. On the right-hand side of the 
chapel, at entering, on a pedestal, is a full length statue of the 
dying prince, with his head lying at the feet of the figure of an 
angel stretching out her hands in the posture of devotion. Two 
clocks are in one of the rooms, — one of which marks the hour 
when the accident happened ; the other, when the duke expired. 
Over the altar is a beautiful statue of the Virgin and Child. De- 
scending a few steps, you come to a room which marks the exact 
spofe where the prince expired. Here is a large and striking 
painting of the whole group brought together by that event. The 
livid features and unearthly expression of the dying man, are 
represented with fearful truthfulness. The queen is kneeling, 
with her head inclined upon his side ; the king, too, is kneeling at 
his feet, with an expression of mute, but profound grief; two of 
the brothers and two of the sisters are standing near ; the priest 
is administering unction to the dying man, and some of the king's 
ministers and attendants are in the back-ground. As a work of 
art the painting did not strike me as of peculiar merit ; but its 
appropriateness for recalling the sad event is extremely effective. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE GRAND BANQUET AT PARIS — OPINIONS OF THE APPROACH- 
ING CRISIS — THE GLOOMY EVE OF THE FATED MORROW 

SUDDEN TACKING OF THE SHIP OF STATE — MENTAL SCENES 
IN THE BOSOM OF THE GOVERNMENT — MADAME THE DUCHESS 

OF ORLEANS MONSIEUR GUIZOT — PARIS IN A POSTURE OF 

DEFENCE THRILLING SCENES OF THE 22d THE RIOTERS 

CHARGED IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. 

To-day, that is, Sunday, 20th, was at first appointed for the 
holding of the Banquet in Paris ; but the leaders changed the 
time to Tuesday, 22d, because that on Sunday and Monday the la- 
boring classes being at Hberty, would be present in greater numbers, 
and thus increase the probability of a disturbance. The place of 
holding it, too, was changed from one of the most frequented parts 
of Paris, to the grounds of a wealthy gentleman in the Champs 
Elysees. 

At this time, the Parisian pubhc seemed not to be particularly 
engrossed with the serious nature of the approaching event, or 
much anxious about the consequences to which it might give birth. 
The press, it is true, had pretty freely discussed the matter, — but 
the public mind had become quite used to inflammatory addresses. 
Besides, the tone of the press had lowered its pitch within a few 
days, and assumed something of a temperate and sincere style. 
This, to a sagacious and penetrating mind, was ominous of a con- 
viction on the part of the leaders of the press, of the fearful nature 

23* 



270 CHESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

of the pending controversy; but to the unreflecting masses, it 
served to dissipate the impression of danger. It was reported that 
Enghsh travellers tarrying in Paris, had taken occasion to leave ; 
and that great numbers of English families residing in Paris, had 
precipitately removed away ; but the trepidation which the Eng- 
lish are wont to show on the slightest rumor of a political disturb- 
ance in Paris, sufficiently explained that act. These were mere 
eddies in the stream of Parisian opinion. The general current of 
trade and pleasure rolled on with its wonted volume and velocity. 
I had endeavored to ascertain the state of private opinion, as 
to the result of the coming Banquet, by questioning freely persons 
of different classes of society. My teacher himself, a member of 
the National Guard, confidently looked forward to a collision with 
the populace, and a consequent revolution, in which he would ar- 
dently engage against the government. To my expression of 
doubt of the merest probability of his party's success, against the 
powerful army of the government, with an air of assurance he 
quickly replied, ''■Nous verro?is" " We shall see.'' The shop- 
keepers seemed too much engrossed in their trade to have given 
the subject much attention, and would not venture on an opinion. 
The teachers were of deliberate opinion, that there prevailed an 
extensive and deep opposition among the mass of the population, 
but that the government was too strongly entrenched behind its ram- 
part of cannon and bayonet, to admit of the possibility of a serious 
disturbance. The broker and his lady who weekly exchanged a 
gold-piece for me, looked up in my face with a half-abstracted, half- 
inquiring air, as if they had given no subject attention, except 
the table of weights and measures. My graceful landlady was 
certain there would be no alarming trouble. The speeches and 
talk that had been made, were mere gasconade, and would all end 
in smoke, — but then she was the mistress of a hotel with rooms 



gea:nd banquet at paeis. 271 

to let. There was residing just across the way, nearly opposite 
to my hotel, a young man, the keeper of a httle, meagre shop, for 
second-hand boots and shoes. He was a frank, generous, buoyant 
spirit, full of poetry and a love of adventure, and possessed withal 
deeply of that true nonchalance which sets so gracefully upon cer- 
tain styles of character. I sought frequent conversations with 
him, not only for the amusement they afforded me, but because he 
was a representative of a large class of Parisians who are only 
satisfied with their present condition, because they cannot do bet- 
ter ; who, in a revolution, have nothing to lose, and everything to 
gain ; who ever thirst for a scene, and will fight for the gratifi- 
cation which the excitement produces. These are ever eager for 
a change of scenery, and rush deliriously forward to whatever 
promises stirring and brilliant achievements. They may be found 
among the foremost at the barricades, fighting desperately, but 
without as much aim as the school-boy who defends to the last a 
ruthless attack upon a snow-fort. In a recent interview with him, 
something like the following conversation ensued : 

" Well," said I, " you are going to have a great time in Paris, 
next Tuesday." 

" Yes, I hear of such talk." 

« Shall you be at the Banquet? " 

" Without doubt. I am always among the crowd." 

" In case of a collision, would you fight ? " 

" That would depend how I should feel, sir." 

On the Monday evening his humble shop was closed, nor did ] 
see it open again. Whether he stayed among the crowd that found 
a common grave, or not, it would not be easy for me to say. 

A few doors from me v/as a variety store, kept by an aged 
lady and her two only children, a boy about seventeen, and a girl 
perhaps sixteen. The woman was one of those remarkable per- 



272 CPwESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOKLD. 

sonages occasionally to be met with in all countries, wlio are liv- 
ing encyclopedias of general and particular information. Her 
chapter on the life and pedigree of distinguished persons, was as 
full and interesting as that of any other subject ; and she narrated 
to me with great minuteness whatever it was desirable to know of 
the entire family of Louis Phillippe. She lived in Paris during 
the old Revolution, was imprisoned, had been an eye-witness of 
some of the most thrilhng and awful scenes that occurred then, 
and had taken place since ; and she had, as might be expected, 
whole volumes to unfold, of the unparalleled events of those 
times. Her earnest manner and pathos of tone, gave a curdling 
vividness to the scenes she depicted. She felt certain that the 
approaching banquet would be the means of a bloody revolution. 
She knew the French character too well, and had watched the 
current of events too closely to doubt of that. She earnestly ad- 
vised me, nay implored me, if I valued my life, or regarded the 
feelings of my family or friends, to lose no time in quitting the 
city ; for, said she, although the Americans would not knowingly 
be harmed if they should not engage in the combat, still in such 
frightful times no one is safe. Her children, however, did not share 
her fears. They were light-hearted and sportive sj)irits, and would 
caper round the store, and hang upon their mother in frohcsome 
glee, like playful kittens. The young man positively threatened 
to leave for the thickest of the fight, on the first notice of an out- 
break, — and with wooden sword and cockade cap, and serio-comic 
air, strutted the Napoleon ; while his sister would second his far- 
cical acts by playing the part of Maria Theresa of Austria, in 
some of the dramatic scenes of that heroine. 

Feb. 21st. The morrow of this day was appointed for the great 
banquet. Anxiety was visible during the day in the countenances 
of ail. The feeling was less profound, however, as it was gene- 



THE BANQUET FOEBIDDEN. 273 

rally imderstood that tliere existed a tacit agreement between the 
Government and the Opposition, that the former would place no 
obstacle to the holding of the banquet, but would content itself by 
merely contesting the legality of the act in the highest judicial 
court of the nation. In that case, there could be no serious cause 
of alarm. Any disturbance would be the merely casual one 
growing out of the igniting force of numbers, and easily subdued 
by the police or national guards. But late in the afternoon, the 
government suddenly tacked the ship of state, by resolving to 
forbid the assembling of the banquet, except the members of the 
Chamber of Deputies, and to employ the iron force of the State 
to secure the obedience to its decrees. This decision was announ- 
ced in the Chamher of Deputies by M. Guizot, the prime minister, 
and head and front of the offending government. In an incredible 
short space of time afterwards, this decree was posted up all over the 
city ; and government officers on horseback were sweeping through 
the streets in every direction, evidently in the fulfilment of 
weighty missions. The tone of the decree was severe and deci- 
ded. It permitted the members of the Chamber of Deputies to 
Assemble, but th^j must hold themselves in readiness to retire on 
the first summons of the government. All other citizens were 
forbidden to be present, on severe penalties ; and it wound up 
with this firm language : " And the government shall hiow hoiu to 
execute its requirements." 

As might be expected, this sudden political turn struck the Op- 
j)Osition perfectly aghast, and threw them into the greatest embar- 
rassment. It was as unexpected as irritating. Lamartine, in- 
spired with a prescience, arose, and in one of those sublime 
bursts of eloquence for which he is so distinguished, broke forth 
in the following noble exclamation : " By this arbitrary act the 
government has placed its hand upon the mouth of the nation ; 



274 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



he the consequences of its guilt upon its own head.^^ But what 
course should they adopt ? 

To deliberate upon the policy best to be pursued, and concert a 
plan of action, a number of the Opposition members immediately 
held a private meeting. The situation in which they were thus un- 
expectedly thrown, wa3 indeed embarrassing. Either of the two 
alternatives presented them was sufficiently desperate or humilia- 
ting. To persist in holding the banquet, would be to provoke a 
bloody conflict, and accept the appalling horrors of a revolution, 
by force of arms. To retreat before the menace of the govern- 
ment, would be to betray the confidence of the republican party, 
and annihilate its name. About two hundred members of every 
shade were present. The discussion was long and ardent, and the 
opinions diverse. As bitter as it was for all, moderate counsels, 
however, prevailed ; and in a note which appeared in one of the 
evening journals, signed by some of the leading Deputies, the Op- 
position made known its resolution to its constituents : " Although," 
said they, " we are protected in our capacity of Deputies, yet we 
cannot take the responsibility of the evils that would fall upon 
those who might be induced to join us, nor the results that would 
follow to the country. We shall, therefore, stay at home ; and we 
advise all good citizens to do the same." 

When late in the afternoon, the news first spread through the 
city, that the government had determined to put down the banquet 
by force of arms, every heart was filled with anxiety and dread. 
All countenances bore a sad and boding expression. About 
dusk, at the corners of streets or in by-lanes, might be seen men 
dressed in blouses, gathered in knots, with sinister faces, in a low 
tone ominously discussing the posture of affairs, or tearing down 
the government decrees, while muttering execrations against M. 
Guizot and his government. But when later in the evening, the 



THE GATHERING STORM. 275 

decision of the Opposition to retire was made known, the public 
anxiety was a good deal relieved. Still, there was an instinctive 
feeling, that affairs had already proceeded too far now to be quietly 
adjusted. The government, by its vacillation and perfidy, had, in 
the minds of the masses, added contempt to hatred. The Oppo- 
sition, by its humane and self-sacrificing spirit to spare the blood 
of the citizens, had enkindled an enthusiasm of admiration and 
sympathy. The extensive preparations for the banquet were all 
completed. Delegates and gentlemen from the provinces and 
cities of France, had already arrived by thousands, to participate 
in the festival. The unbounded love of the Parisians for ma^^nifi- 
cent spectacles had become excited. All these causes added to 
that principle of human nature which ill brooks a severe disap- 
pointment, and that impulse of desire and determination which 
arbitrary opposition lends, would, it was justly feared, give a per- 
sistence and recklessness to the passions of the populace, that 
nothing short of bloodshed would stifle. 

The reason offered by the government for its sudden change of 
determination at so late an hour was, that the Opposition, by in- 
viting large numbers of the National Guards to be present, al- 
though without arms, had given to the occasion an unusual, if not 
a suspicious feature, which required to be checked. All felt, how- 
ever, that this was a mere pretext, and that the true reason arose 
from the alarm which the unusual enthusiasm for the banquet had 
excited in the Parisian populace, as well as in the country gen- 
erally. 

This was the posture of affairs, when night enshrouded the 
city with a darkness increased by the momentous impending crisis. 
What were the mental scenes that the night gave birth to, at the 
palace, and in the bosom of the government ! Subsequent events 
have thrown some light upon these. The king affected to despise 



276 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

the elements of hostility which were arraying themselves against 
his power. He would fain trust in his star, in the devotion of the 
army commanded by the princes, his sons, — in his majority in the 
chambers, in the skill of his adroit ministers, in the vast manufac- 
turing and commercial interests which always fear a revolution; — 
still, in reality, it was evident that he was not without a mental 
trepidation ; a vertigo of mind seemed to have come over him. 
The address with which for so long a time he had ruled France, and 
in some measure Europe, had at last forsaken him. This was 
evident from the uncalled-for language of the crown address, and 
his shifting course in respect to the banquets. In truth, the king 
bad become old, and, though not wanting in bravery, had lost in a 
measure that persistence of will which sustains more youthful 
men in trying scenes. He had ever before his eyes the fate of 
Charles X, as well as that of the predecessors of that monarch. 
The terrible scenes of the revolution of ' 89 continually haunted 
his imagination. He well knew the combustible character of a 
portion of the Parisian population. Should an outbreak arrive, 
his humane heart would revolt at reacting the horrid part of the 
youthful Napoleon, and flooding the streets of Paris with the 
blood of its citizens. But after all, would his army certainly stand 
by him ? Might they not in the trying hour hesitate to shed the 
blood of fathers, brothers, or lovers in a war against their own, and 
human rights ? Of the possible disaffection of the army, unfortu- 
nately for the peace of the kmg, he had received already some 
intimation from one of his trusty-hearted generals. At this stage 
of the imminent crisis undoubtedly the king would have willingly 
yielded to the desire of the nation for a new ministry. But that 
step it was now too late to take with safety. It might have been 
done Avith great good fortune, to the royal cause, at an earlier 
stage, when it would have seemed to be a gift of clemency, and 



DUCHESS OF ORLEANS. 



277 



respect to tlie national will ;.but given out now, the king could not 
fail to perceive that it would be regarded as a right wrested from 
arbitrary power, paving the way for greater and more humiliatino- 
concessions. 

The queen shared the mental agitation of the kini^. Passion- 
ately devoted to her husband, as wife and mother, and arrived at 
that advanced age of life when repose and tranquillity are so 
grateful to the human soul, when the grandeur of human ambition 
has lost its charm, she naturally thought more of the king's safety 
and the repose of his government, than of any advantage that 
might be gained in attempting to check the inroads of democratical 
influence. She, therefore, supplicated the king to grant to the 
Opposition their demands for the right to hold banquets, and to 
form a new ministry whose views should be more in accordance 
with the national will. 

There was still another personage in the royal mansion, no in- 
different spectator to the thickening scene of events. It was 
Madame, the Duchess of Orleans. She had been a widow about 
six years ; her universally beloved husband was killed from a frac- 
ture, occasioned by an accidental fall, in jumping out of his carriage. 
The oldest of her two sons, the Count of Paris, now eight years 
of age, was the direct heir to the throne. With all the depth of a 
mother's affection, and the lofty ambition of a princess of the 
blood, the powers of her maternal soul were concentrated upon 
her dear boy, whom it had been the solace of her deep affliction 
to render Avorthy of the most splendid crown of Europe. The 
king and queen were soon to go the way of all the earth, where 
crowns lose their lustre ; but here were beings just ascending the 
arch-way of the future. Life, hi its fascinating power, was broad 
before them. With the mental quickness of a woman, and the 
keen sagacity of a princess, she perceived at a glance her danger, 

24 



278 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



and as promptly took her part. Slie infinitely preferred the regu- 
lar and peaceful transfer of the crown, however limited by con- 
stitutional rights, to the risk of contesting it wdth the French 
populace. In the Tuileries, the day was not distant, when her 
heart would swell with maternal pride to see the crown deck the 
brow of her noble boy. But once filched from the palace, and in 
the hands df the fickle multitude, and the greatest uncertainty 
would envelop its fate. The crowd pretend to little knowledge of 
the rights of the court. They have never been instructed in its 
etiquette. Once in possession of the glittering bauble, with a 
sacrilegious hand they would be as likely to place it upon the head 
of some country swain to enliven the festivities of some gala-day, 
as to return it to its rightful owner. The duchess, therefore, add- 
ed her entreaties to those of the queen, and implored the king 
even on bended knees, as he valued his safety, the permanency of 
his power, the rights of his children, to make a shght concession, 
and save the crown. 

There was still another in the imperial picture. It was the 
prime minister, M. Guizot. It was more against him than against 
the king and the royal family, that the ire of the Opposition popu- 
lace was directed. He was regarded, either as the base instru- 
ment of a reactionary policy, or a principal agent in a misapplied 
power, inhumanly bartering the sacred rights of human freedom 
for the pride of a cold and ascetic philosophy. Guizot was es- 
teemed politically a host in himself. The French populace looked 
upon him as the Nestor of European diplomacy and the Ulysses of 
French politics. He had been at the head of the French govern- 
ment so long, that he seemed the main pillar in the political edi- 
fice. Against him had been directed from time to time the keen 
arrows of the Opposition ; but these shafts, fully steeped in the 
gall of political virulence, and impelled with the redoubled force 



M. GUIZOT. 279 



of united action, flanked with the omnipotent power of Freedom 
and Human Progress, had hitherto struck against him in harm- 
less impotence. Indeed, he was wont to take upon his impervious 
sliield the envenomed missiles with the adroit skill of an uncou- 
quered hero, smiling with ineffable disdain as they dropped pow- 
erless at his feet, — or seizing them in turn, with a giant force to 
hurl them back upon his foes, often with destructive effect. Gui- 
zot is a man of immense talents and powerful genius. His re- 
markable powers of mind are only equalled by the extent and 
finish of their culture. So precocious was his intellect, that at the 
age of fifteen, it is reported, he could read in their native langua- 
ges, Demosthenes, Tacitus, Dante, Goethe, and Shakspeare. He 
ranked among the foremost as a professor at the Sarbonne. As a 
publicist of the English school, his reputation was unequalled in 
France. As a parliamentary orator, though rarely eloquent, yet 
he was ever masterly. He was mailed all over, and had not a 
flaw in his armor through which the shaft of objection might pene- 
trate and wound. But as a historian, M. Guizot stands out most 
conspicuously. Although not the father of philosophical history, 
he is emphatically the great discourser of the profound science of 
the present age. In this character he will continue to shine as a 
fixed star in the uj^per heaven of the world's career. His well- 
earned fame had become widely spread among the masses who 
always bear a chivalrous enthusiasm for great genius and talent, 
and created for him a prestige of influence. But nearly the 
entire force of the French press, able, earnest, eloquent, had 
changed the current of his popularity to enmity. The greater the 
strength of the prime minister, the more implacable became the 
Opposition, just as a barrier gathers the waters of a rapid stream. 
Public feeling, which has no conscience, and consequently knows 
no remorse, had become intensified against the Government's 



280 CKESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



strongest supporter. Powerful influences had now set it in move- 
ment. It had often before in storms of agitation, laved even the 
pedestal of the government, and more than once dashed the sides 
of the political pillar. But now appearances foreboded a deeper 
surging from the tempest than had before been seen. The tem- 
porary stillness that reigned, was only the fatal hush that preceded 
the shock. It cannot be doubted that M. Guizot felt a conscious- 
ness of his approaching fate. His keen mental vision must have 
divined the end to which the government was hastening. But his 
policy could not then be changed with dignity or safety. Like a 
true hero, he would rather die a martyr to his policy, — to his cause. 
The misfortune of Guizot was in his principles ; and the misfor- 
tune of his principles was, that they came into the world a century 
too late. His policy was eminently conservative. The Opposition 
demanded reform and progress. The two diverging principles 
borne upon on either side by the increasing pressure of arbitrary 
power and national will, were destined to a tremendous collapse. 
This, the prime minister foreseeing, wrapped himself in his man- 
tle, and calmly awaited his fate. 

Nevertheless, the Government neglected no means to stay its 
tottering power. A force of upwards of fifty thousand men had 
been concentrated in and around Paris. The artillery of Viu- 
cennes^was to be transported, at the first alarm, to the Faubourg 
of St. Antoine. Dispositions long and well studied, had placed, 
since 1830, in case of an insurrection, strategic posts to different 
corps in difierent quarters. Any emute intercepted by these posts, 
was to be broken into fragments, and thus prevented to concen- 
trate. The fort of Mount Valerin was to be occupied with a nu- 
merous garrison, and horse-troops stationed upon the road thence 
to Paris and St. Cloud. Thirty-seven battahons of infantry, a 
battahon of Orleans Giasseurs, three companies of engineers, 



ASSEMBLING OF THE POPULACE. 281 

twenty squadrons, four thousand men of tlie municipal guard and 
veterans, five batteries of artillery, formed the garrison of the capital. 

Feb. 22c?. The morning of the eventful day had now arrived. 
I took an early stroll to observe the hue of appearances. Nothing, 
at first, seemed to bode a sinister day. The citizens bore no arms, 
neither openly, nor secreted under their garments ; nor was there 
a lowering expression painted upon their visages. All was as 
usual, except a deeper stillness than ordinary. A little later in 
the morning, however, crowds of inoffensive and curious people 
began to assemble upon the boulevards and quays. Mutually at- 
tracted by curiosity, they seemed drawn together to observe, rather 
than to meditate for action. 

The students of the several schools, — the advance guard of all 
the revolutions — united by groups in their quarters, and then as- 
sembled upon the Place de la Madeline. Thence they sent a 
deputation from their number to the leaders of the Opposition, 
asking of the latter what they were to do, and signifying an entire 
readiness to execute their commands. Subsequently they swept 
in immense numbers through the streets, linked arm in arm, ex- 
tending in tiers quite across the street and singing most animatingly 
the celebrated Marsellaise. The impression which then- stirring 
melody made upon my mind, as standing in the door of a fre- 
quented reading-room they poured thus past me, will hardly ever 
be efiiiced. This movement, with the singing, electrified the pop- 
ulace through which they passed. Their column continually in- 
creased. Traversing the Place de la Concorde, they crossed the 
Port Royal, forced open the gates of the palace of the Chamber 
of Deputies, and then spread, aimlessly, in the garden and upon 
the quays. A regiment of dragoons soon dispersed them. Then 
the infantry arrived and took possession cf the street of Bour- 
goyne, and estabhshed a military defence of the bridge. 

24* 



^32 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

At ten o'clock, the hour that had been appointed, according to 
^he arrangement of the banquet, for the coiivives to form a pro- 
cession upon the Place of the Madeline, and thence proceed to the 
i)anquet, in the Champs Elysees, groups of boys and blouses as- 
sembled upon the square around the church, and finding there 
nothing to feed their ardor, moved on, and dispersed promiscuously, 
in small knots, in the Champs Elysees and iu the Place de la Con- 
corde. Their expression and movement attracted crowds of the 
curious in the same direction, and the military were posted around 
them to watch their progress, and guard against an outbreak. 

Early in the afternoon, I set out for the office of the Secretary 
of Legation, Rue Martineau, in order to get my passport viseed, 
preparatory to leaving Paris. My route lay through the quarters 
where the crowd had become most dense. Passing down Rue de 
Seine, I found the quays on the left bank of the river unusually 
free of people. But the other side was covered with the an- 
imated and moving throng, increasing to the Pont de la Concorde. 
As this human stream was moving my own way, I was swiftly 
swept along, hastened by the common pulsation of curiosity. The 
garden of the Tuileries, which I crossed, was as solitary as a 
desert, except about the gate which leads from the garden into the 
Place de la Concorde, where the throng was dense, and the gate shut 
and guarded against passers. Here, climbing to the top of a post, I 
succeeded to a gratifying view of the scene farther on. The 
fine square of the Place de la Concorde was nearly filled. On one 
side was a handsome troop of cavalry posted in close column, with 
stately plumes, brilliant uniform, and armor gleaming in the rays 
of the declining sun. They sat upon theii horses as motionless as 
beings from whom the spirit of life had departed. Their down- 
cast eyes were turned ■" ^eadfastly toward the point of danger ; but 
their countenances expressed more of sorrow than of anger. 



DENSELY CEOWDED STREETS. 283 

Two other sides of the square were filled with a packed mass 
of spectators, idlj, but eagerly looking on, and curiously awaiting 
some brilliant explosion. Between these were insignificant look- 
ing blouses and boys, who appeared to be regarded as the embryo 
heroes of approaching events. They would occasionally unite in 
small detached groups, send up in the air a faint a has Guizot ! — 
then disperse and disappear in the skirts of the crowd. They ap- 
peared reckless, but perfectly good-natured. It was evident that 
they were not yet worked up to the fervor of action. On the side 
of the square flanked by rue Rivoli, was a vast and promiscuous 
throng of men, women, and children, — all eager, curious and 
anxious. This extended wave of life would at one time ebb off, 
leaving the space in that direction almost open, and then surge up 
in a dense mass, threatening to block up every nook of the entire 
square. As it was impossible to pursue my route farther from 
this point, I descended the garden to a gate opening into rue 
E-ivoli, through which I passed, and with difiiculty forced my way 
through the compact and vibrating crowd to the side of the Place 
de la Concorde, where several streets radiate. Here, contrary 
currents of people meeting, were suffocatingly forced upon each 
other, and engulfed in a whirlpool, from which there appeared no 
way of extraction. It was a maelstrom of lesser size. After 
being swept around for some time in the merciless, boiling tide, till 
I felt the life to be nearly squeezed out of me, a chance eddy pre- 
cipitated me into a niche of the buildings of the street, where I 
gratefully took a long breath. Here, watching a favorable turn, I 
darted out with a view to thread the corner, and reach the space 
of the Champs Ely sees, — but I had no sooner reached a point 
where I fancied myself out of danger, when a fitful surge came 
rolling full upon me, and swept me back quite down rue de Rivoli 
into Rue Royal, as impotently as some tiny bauble borne upon the 



284 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



boiling bosom of a swollen freshet. I now changed my route, and 
thought I might reach my destination by the Rue St. Honore, 
which was parallel with rue de Rivoli and the Champs Elysees ; 
but I found this street, too, so choked with people, that moving 
through it seemed quite impossible. But all these obstacles only 
served to inflame my ardor, and strengthen my purpose to succeed 
in getting the necessary changes made in my passport to enable 
me to leave the city at the moment I might wish. Indeed, I be- 
came almost desperate in my efforts, and tugged away with an 
energy and perseverance worthy of a more important cause. 
Reaching the wall of the street, and pressing hard against it with 
my back, when the jambed throng surged with resistless force in 
the contrary direction, and pressing and elbowing my way, a little, 
when the opposition slightly relaxed, I finally, with much ado, 
reached the office, minus buttons, and hat fit for the block of the 

hatter. I found Mr. S , Secretary of Legation, tranquilly 

enjoying a cigar with an acquaintance-caller. Neither of them 
had been out for the day to see the demonstrations, and they ques- 
tioned, with a slightly anxious tone, to know how affairs were 
moving in the streets. Speaking rather jocosely and incredulously 
of the puny efforts of the emuteurs against the strongly fortified 
powers of the Government, Mr. S ,with a gusto of sympathy re- 
counted the heroic wish of a lady of his acquaintance residing in 
the Champs Elysees, that the emute might not be so soon quelled 
as to deprive her of the excitement and gratification of witnessing 
the sport, — and affording a rich reminiscence to reproduce among 
her friends in the United States. It cannot be doubted that her 
curiosity was amply satisfied. 

Returning homeward, I could not well resist the curiosity of 
obtaining a view of what might be worthy of remembrance, by 
taking the route of the Champs Elysees ; but I was near being 



A PAINFUL SCENE. • 285 



dearly paid for my temerity. After reaching a post where the 
crowd was somewhat dense among the venerable elms of the 
splendid park, a group of emuteurs who had been vociferating 
cries of a bas Guizot, were charged and dispersed by a small body 
of light-horse. When these latter were returning from the charo-e, 
the rioters rallied, and for a moment the air was darkened with 
every description of missiles at hand. One of these striking a 
horseman upon the head, felled him senseless to the earth. Upon 
this, the exasperated troop turned their horses, and with drawn 
swords, rushed furiously upon the rioters, dealing severe cuts in 
every direction. Without changing my pace, they thundered past 
me, offering me no harm. But at the cruel scene around me, my 
heart sickened, and my eyes grew dim. In a moment I was 
wedged among the crowd of spectators, who, partaking of the gen- 
eral panic, received an impetus of movement which by turns com- 
pletely took me from the ground, and I was swept along far from 
the immediate scene of action. The above act was the only one 
that I could hear of, in which blood was shed during the day. 
Among the entire population there was evinced no feeling of 
strong passion. The evening journals had modified their tone. 
The Opposition journals limited themselves to little more than 
detailing the known transactions of the day. The Government 
journals, on the contrary, were loud in support of the government, 
urging it to vigorous measures. The Journal des Debats made 
use of the following pointed language : " Advance upon the phan- 
tom, and it will vanish ; fly from it, and it will increase to the 
sky." After gleaning whatever possible of information in regard 
to the true posture of affairs, with mingled emotions of expecta- 
tion respecting the fate of the morrow, I retired. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

REVOLUTION CONTINUED — SUAVITY AND KINDNESS OF MR. 
RUSH — CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES — M. GUIZOT IN THE TRIBUNE 
— GENIAL EFFECT UPON THE PUBLIC MIND OF THE RUMORED 

RESIGNATION OF M. GUIZOT — READING ROOMS ALARM IN 

THE NIGHT — CAUSE — DEPARTURE — APPEARANCE OF THE 

STREETS — THE ENGLISHMAN DEPARTURE FROM PARIS — 

EXCITEMENT OP THE INHABITANTS ON THE ROUTE — AMIENS 
APPEARANCE OF BELGIUM. 

Wednesday, Feb. 23d. The night passed without material dis- 
order. The troops bivouacked upon the public squares, and in 
the streets. A few chairs and benches in the Champs Elysees, 
set fire to by some boys, gave a slight illumination of disorder. 
Yet the government were everywhere master of the pavement, 
except in a few narrow streets around the cloister of St.Mery, in the 
centre of Paris, which forms a kind of natural citadel. There some 
four or five hundred desperate republicans were thronged in dog- 
ged defiance. But their chiefs even disapproved their obstinacy 
and temerity. Another detachment of republicans, without lead- 
ers, disarmed during the night the National Guards of the Batig- 
nolles, burned the post of the barrier, and fortified themselves in 
a carpenter's yard, to await future events. No attempt was made 
to dislodge them. Early in the morning I made a stroll, and 
found the city calm and awaiting. The several routes leading to 
the gates of the city were covered at the earliest dawn with col- 



PROGRESS OF THE REVOLUTION. 287 

umns of cavalry, infantry, artillery, called by the ordy/-?^ of the 
government. These troops showed a promptitude of obedience, 
but were sad and silent. The possibility of a civil strife darkened 
their sun-burnt visages. They severally took positions at the 
grand junctions of the quarters which divide the city. During 
the day, armory stores were broken open, arms seized, and de- 
tached and scattering firing made upon the troops. It was nearly, 
however, without effect. Barricades were raised, commencing 
near the church of Saint Mery, and extending almost to the feet 
of the soldiers. But they were no sooner raised, than abandoned ; 
for the soldiers, having only stones to fight, would not waste their 
ammunition. 

The National Guard, composed of the well-to-do citizens of 
the city, being called upon, promptly responded ; but they re- 
mained neutral, limiting themselves to interfering between the 
people and the troops, wdth a spirit of pacification. Many a gen- 
erous act might be recorded of some young man, fired with senti- 
ments of heroic humanity, breasting danger with his life, to stop the 
effusion of blood. 

Early in the forenoon, I called on Mr. Rush, the American min- 
ister, w^ho, in a note which he had left in person, the evening be- 
fore, at my hotel, had promised to put me in a way to visit the 
Chamber of Deputies, and if possible, the House of Peers. I 
had been trying for this, since my arrival in Paris, but without 
success, — and as a last resort, had applied to Mr. Rush for assis- 
tance. He promptly lent me all aid in his power. 

I found him arisen, but he had not been out. He inquired 
about the appearance in the streets with a feeling of anxiety, but 
expressed the opinion that the government could not possibly be 
moved from its strong position. He cordially lent me his own 
ticket for a seat in the Chamber of Deputies, stating that fortn 



288 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

nately for me, it happened to be the first day it had been in for 
several weeks, so great had been the desire to gain access to the 
intensely eloquent, as well as stormy, sessions of that body, — that 
there were then numerous applicants for the favor, but he felt 
bound to give me the preference, from the importance of my mis- 
sion. As to the Chamber of Peers, it was not in his power to do 
anything for me. 

Mr. Rush was justly popular at Paris. He has a frankness of 
manner which places you at once at your ease, and so enters 
into your feelings that you are comfortable and delighted in his 
presence. He converses admirably, and evinces a tone of charac- 
ter and polish of style allied to great simplicity, that bespeak the 
true gentleman. 

After a turn or two about the city, I appeared at the door of the 
Chamber of Deputies, and showing the ticket of Mr. Rush, was 
promptly and politely conducted to a box in the north side of the 
first gallery. It was half-past twelve, noon, when I arrived, 
but the hall was quite vacant. At one o'clock, the president 
of the assembly entered, accompanied by the officers of the Cham- 
ber and some members. He immediately pronounced the session 
open, and the proceedings of the last day were read by the clerk, 
but no one gave the slightest attention to the exercise. At half- 
past one the president rang his large bell, and requested gentle- 
men to be seated ; but all present were too absorbed in conversing 
upon affairs without, to give the slightest heed to the summons ; 
and it was three o'clock before tolerable order could be obtained. 
Members were continually entering the room, or passing out, for 
private conferences in the lobbies ; or assembled in groups, in dif- 
ferent parts of the hall, and conversing with an earnest and 
anxious look. It was deeply interesting to watch the ebb and 
flow of emotion on their countenances, as a letter would ever and 



VISIT TO THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 289 

anon arrive, bringing intelligence of the progress of the revolution 
without. 

By this time, the boxes in the first gallery, which I could see, 
were packed with spectators, mostly ladies, whom I presumed to 
be the wives, daughters, or friends, of the members. 
Another gentleman was in my box, who had come in soon after me. 
He bore the costume, and had the air of a cosmopolitan ; and, after 
making a careful survey of the scene, had laid down on a plashed 
seat, and closed his eyes in silence. He was soon followed by 
another young gentleman, who could not be mistaken as a Yankee, 
although attired fastidiously in Parisian style. All around appeared 
new to him, and he continually evinced a pigeon-hke trepidation 
of spirit. As soon as the session became a little turbulent he left, 
precipitately, evincing no relish for the scenes that might follow. 

Members were ever passing around to each other, in familiar 
intercourse ; but the principal interest seemed to centre around 
the seats of the ministers of the government, who were busy in 
receiving the chiefs of the legislative parties. The officer of the 
Chamber made several fruitless attempts to secure order and at- 
tention, for such as wished to address the house. He would sound 
his bell, and cry out, " Messieurs, aux bancs," — gentlemen to 
their seats, — which was heeded as little as would have been the 
most insignificant appeal. The president joined his official au- 
thority to his personal influence, and reminded gentlemen of 
their duty, and what was due to their dignity : but it all fell pow- 
erless amid the mortal disquietude which consumed every other 
sentiment. Two or three times, indeed, partial order was effected, 
to enable some speaker to ascend the tribune for an address, — 
but after the delivery of a few sentences, confusion again would 
break in, drown the voice of the orator, and force him to quit the 
tribune. 

25 



290 CRESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, a small delegation of taili- 
tary officers entered the hall, and one of them in a respectful 
manner, handed a paper to the president. While the latter was 
reading the communication, the members seated themselves, and 
there was instantly profound silence, as if in anticipation of 
some important announcement. The president then stated that 
the palace was surrounded with troops of the National Guard 
who had despatched a deputation from theu' number to request or 
demand a resignation of the ministry, as a measure indispensable 
to appease the populace, and stop further effusion of blood. This 
announcement was received by the house with the silence of sur- 
prise or contempt. Immediately a slender figure, a little above 
the medium French stature, darted from the ministers' seats and 
ascended the tribune, in front of the Speaker's desk. There was 
a slight awkwardness in his gait. As he turned to the audience 
to speak, his features bespoke the immobility of an unconquerable 
purpose ; and his eye, the slumbering of a volcano within. It was 
M. Guizot, the prime muiister. 

He had uttered but a few sentences, when suddenly, — from the 
most breathless attention and the deepest stillness, — the entire 
assembly broke forth in one astounding, thrilling, prolonged accla- 
mation or remonstrance. Loud cries of "Aye, aye!" "No, no!" 
accompanied by intense expression, and frantic gestures, filled the 
room, and came rolling up the gallery in startling effect. The 
very edifice seemed to quake under the impulse. The vast assem- 
bly was an immensely multiplied electrical battery, and each 
Frenchman an active Leyden jar. Had the heavens suddenly 
poured their accumulated thunders upon my ear, or played their 
condensed fire thi'ough my veins, I could harldly have been more 
thrillingly shocked. As to the gentleman, my only companion in the 
box I occupied, who had never changed from the horizontal pos- 



EESIGNATION OF THE GUIZOT MINISTRY. 291 

ture lie first assumed on entering, — lie now started suddenly up, 
looked wildly round, protruded his head out upon the scene, and then, 
smiting his forehead with his fists as if in a fit of abject despera- 
tion, leaped out by the door like a maniac, and disappeared from 
me entirely. During this excitmg scene, the speaker remained in the 
same posture, as motionless as a statue. 'Not a muscle relaxed, 
and no emotion was visible in the steady features and unwavering 
eye. Even the arm remained in the same posture of the half- 
finished gesture. He was saying, when the explosion took place, 
" that the demand of the National Guard was unnecessary, as the 
king at that moment was forming a new ministry." "When the 
whirlwind of passion had subsided, he turned to the president, and 
remarked that the demonstration which had just taken place would 
not influence him to add to or subtract from what he was going to 
say ; and then in a few words closed, and resumed his seat among 
his colleagues, when a repetition of the late tumult transpired. The 
whole scene was rich, and long to be remembered. I could never 
have conceived of two so strong opposites in the same character — 
such a tornado of intense power, vivid energy, intoxicating thrill, 
and lightning impetuosity enveloped in the gay, polite, amiable, 
and facile Frenchman. 

On my way homeward, I found that the rumored resignation of 
the Guizot ministry had, with the winged flight of good intelli- 
gence, spread among all classes. The evidence of it beamed 
from the countenances of all. The sad, anxious face was changed 
to one of hope and joy. Men and women accosted each other 
with wonted freedom of spirit. A mental load seemed to be re- 
moved suddenly from the heart of the city. Undoubtedly there 
were desperate spirits that regretted any pacification, but the im» 
mense majority of respectable citizens shuddered at the bare idea 
of an insurrection. To such the intelligence came with healing 



292 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



in its wings. The utmost demanded by tlie Opposition was now 
accorded them. 

In the evening I was in one of the public reading-rooms. These 
are found in all parts of the city. All are furnished with the 
journals, the popular works of French, English, German and Ital- 
ian authors ; and some with the standard works in the various de- 
partments of science and literature. For a single admission you 
pay about three cents, which entitles you to read as long as you 
choose. The delightful convenience of such an institution in a 
city like Paris, always filled with intelligent strangers, is too ob- 
vious to need comment. 

This room, in the quarter of the schools, was always thronged. 
It consisted of three large saloons, with wide, open door-ways 
leading into each other, and filled with long tables, upon which 
were French, English, and German journals; while the walls 
were covered with volumes, arranged upon shelves. It was bril- 
liantly lighted. As you enter, you raise your chapeau to the gen- 
tlemen, and then seat yourself at will. Waiters are ever at your 
elbow awaiting your demands. On leaving, you call at the desk, 
make payment, and retouch your chapeau. The utmost quietness 
ever reigns, and a good degree of politeness prevails among th&, 
devouring readers. 

I found the reading-room, as usual, filled with hungry seekerg 
for the daily news. The stillness of night reigned, and no ordi- 
nary incident could have disturbed the order ; but an evening jour- 
nal having arrived, the excitement of curiosity to swallow ii& con- 
tents, at once became so intense as to break through all icstraint 
and decorum. Each wishing to read it first, a scene of confusion 
took place. It was instantly decided that one should lead aloud 
for all ; whereupon, a gentleman moimting upon the centre of a 
table, read the account of the resignation of the Gui^ot ministry^ 



ALAKM IN THE NIGHT. 293 

the formation of a new ministrj by the king, with Count Mole at 
its head, — with the comments of the editor. The reading was 
spiced with a due quantity of gestures, grimmaces, shrugs and 
ironic explanations by the reader, while the audience heightened 
the amusement of the scene by their contributions oi jeu d'esprits. 
It was now the general feeling that the contention was at an 
end ; and as I had set the 24th for my departure, I proceeded to 
make arrangements for an early leave. The depot of the railroad 
for the North, was at the northern limit of the city, while I was 
residing on the south side of the Seine. The several coachmen to 
whom I apphed for a carriage, would not take me for any price, 
fearing that their vehicles would be arrested and converted into 
barricades. 

My valises packed, hotel bill settled, a cordial leave of Madame D., 
and a douceur for her maid, I threw myself upon my delightful wool 
mattress for the needed refreshment for the morrow's journey. 
I was awakened in the night from sound slumber, by a great 
noise and confusion in our hotel. A general panic seemed to have 
seized its usually quiet inmates ; and the different parts of the 
house were resounding with hurried footsteps, slamming of doors, 
and incoherent voices. A moment's attentive listening, however, 
persuaded me that the occasion of this turbulent excitation was 
without our residence. The bells of the city were breaking the 
stillness of night with successive, hurried peals. Quickly moving 
lights gleamed across my window. The pavement in the street 
below reverberated the heavy and confused tread of passing 
crowds ; while the wild clashing of multitudinous voices near, 
drowning, at times, some distant shout, faintly falhng upon the 
ear, lent a strange and fearful animation to this contemplated 
scene. It was evident that some unlooked-for occurrence had 
aroused the city. But as there was neither safety, nor prospect 

25* 



294 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

of gratification in venturing out, it was better quietly to av>ait re- 
sults. The symptoms of alarm, however, soon subsided, and I 
fell again into slumber. 

I subsequently learned the occasion of the wide-spread tumult. 
The intelligence that the ministry had resigned, had canied joy 
nearly to all hearts. The sudden removal of deep, pressing dread, 
had given an elastic bound to gladness. The city was par- 
tially illuminated. The suspended fetes and amusements shone 
forth in renewed splendor. A large column of reckless spirits of 
the lower order of the populace, carried away with the gene- 
ral enthusiasm, and perhaps partially intoxicated with success 
against the government, traversed the streets and boulevards in a 
spirit of triumphal exultation. Immense crowds floated along 
with this haggard force, in which was enveloped the spark of 
destiny. A red flag floated in the smoke of their torches, and a 
sinister tone was apparent in their animated expression. Arriv- 
ing in front of the hotel of Foreign Affairs, they found the 
boulevard blocked by a battalion of the line, ranged in battle ar- 
ray, with arms charged, and the commander at their head. The 
column suddenly halted before that forest of bristling bayonets. 
The sight of the red flag, and the glare of the torches, frightened 
the horse of the commander so that he reared, and rushed toward 
the battalion, which opened to envelop its chief. In the confusion 
of the movement, a shot was heard. Whether it escaped from 
a concealed and deadly hand, or was the mere result of accident^ 
is not known; but the soldiers, believing themselves attacked, 
levelled their muskets, and drew upon the column. A stream of 
momentary flame ran along the line. The reverberation from the 
houses and street shook the whole boulevard. The column from 
the faubourgs fell, decimated by the balls. Death shrieks, and 
groans from the wounded, were mingled with screams of fright 



DEPARTURE FROM PARIS. 



295 



from the spectators, and from women and children, who fled in 
every direction. The commander of the troops, deploring the 
involuntary massacre, essayed an explanation with the populace. 
The latter, gathering in carts the dead, made with them a funeral 
procession by torch light, breathing revenge on the Government as 
the authors of the crime. They were drawn up before the office 
of the National, and other Opposition journals, displayed in gory 
revenge, and exciting harangues made to the assembled crowds. 
This unlucky incident gave new impulse to the revolution. 

DEPARTURE. 

The fixed intention of leaving, awoke me early in the morning. 
With valises packed to their utmost density, I was quietly let 
out into the tranquil morning air, by the attentive maid, who in 
passing, nodded Monsieur an amiable adieu. The air was bland, 
and the street unoccupied, and perfectly still. It was the repent- 
ant, pensive face of nature, immediately after the destructive 
rage of a tempest. Passing down Rue de Seine, and around the 
corner of the venerable Institute, lines of soldiers came to view 
on the quays of the north bank of .the Seine, presenting 
drowsy, haggard, and sorrowful countenances. They had evi- 
dently bivouacked on the pavement. In Rue St. Dennis the pop- 
ulace began to be a-stir ; as I proceeded, the concourse increased. 
They were of the working classes, men and women. There was 
nothing of deep spite or deadly hate visible upon their faces, but 
a kind of mortal impatience, an indefinite movement, as when one 
would act without finding the means or seeing clearly the end. I 
asked a woman who was walking by my side, the occasion of the 
incipient demonstration. She replied, that the new Count Mole 
ministry gave but little better satisfaction than the one it displaced ; 
and the sad event of the night had enkindled and emboldened 



296 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

anew the passions of tlie populace. I trudged along, perspiring 
freely, faint from want of breakfast, but sustained by the anima- 
tion imparted by the enkindling scenes around. A little on, a 
tall, athletic, determined-looking man, issued from a lane, and with 
an iron bar began prying up the paving stones for a barricade. 
He was immediately joined by others ; and, before I had left them 
out of sight, the pile had gained quite formidable proportions. A 
little further on, a large, strong, fierce-looking man, passed in cus- 
tody of a soldier of the National Guard. He walked with a 
lofty and defying gait, and his countenance spoke a torrent of 
power dammed up within. Some half a dozen men stepped to 
his side, and offered to liberate him, — but for some reason he de- 
clined their good ofiices. The wide and beautiful boulevard of 
St. Martin and St. Dennis presented a desolate spectacle. The 
beautiful elms that lined the splendid avenue, had been cut down 
for barricades, and lay promiscuously strewed with onmibuses, 
coaches, carts, and other vehicles, in very babel-like confusion. 
Here, a double line of soldiers, stretching off on both sides of me 
in the distance, were standing in mute sadness. As I approached, 
they opened, leaving me a passage just wide enough to squeeze 
through, edge-wise. At another cross-street a barricade was vig- 
orously being formed. They usually left a space for passers ; but 
this extended quite across the street. A woman preceded me. 
With respectful kindness they suspended the work, and helped her 
to scramble over it. They extended the same favor to me. Get- 
ting over was a task not a little formidable to me, exhausted as I 
was, and encumbered with luggage. Another barricade of huge 
dimensions, formed the day before, forced me to reach the depot 
by a circuitous route, in which I was aided by the kind politeness 
of a gentleman who persisted in accompanying me to point out 
the way. Several times before, gentlemen had volunteered and 



AN ENGLISmiAN. 297 



urged their services for the same purpose ; and all along I was 
shown courteous and respectful kindness particularly grateful to 
the feelings. On the whole route, there was nothing sinister in 
the expression of the populace, but rather a fervent elasticity of 
feeling. When I had been in the depot-building but a few mo- 
ments, a stout-built gentleman enveloped in cloaks and furs, ap- 
proached hurriedly, and rather bluntly accosted me in French : — 

" When does the first train for the North leave, sir ? " 

" At half-past nine o'clock," I replied. 

" Do you not mistake ? " 

"Not unlikely, but I am just from the ticket-office." 

" How long have you been in Paris ? " 

« Eight weeks." 

" Where are you from ? " 

« The United States." 

" Then you speak English ? " 

« Undoubtedly." 

" I am an Englishman," he resumed, changing to his native 
language, " reside in Havre, — arrived in Paris but a quarter of 
an hour since, and am now making the most of the time to get out 
as fast as possible of the city and territory. I confess the hori- 
zon of Paris looks a little too lowering to suit my fancy just now." 

It is needless to say that we were travelling companions at 
once. I stepped into a neighboring cafe for a cup of refreshing 
beverage and a roll, but my friend would not venture with me. 
The windows of the saloon were closed with strong shutters, and 
all the doors barred except a private entrance from behind. A 
few gentlemen were within, quaffing their coffee in hot haste, while 
the waiters were running to and fro in distracted excitement. A 
traveller entered, laden with baggage, in profuse perspiration and 
extreme trepidation. 



298 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



*^ When will the omnibus line pass here for ?" he hurriedly 

demanded. 

" It does not run, now." 

" Can I obtain a carriage ? '' 

" No, sir, not at any price." 

« What shall I do ? " 

" Don't know, sir." 

The unfortunate gentleman threw himself into a chair with a 
look of unutterable despair. On returning, I found the huge iron 
door leading into the enclosure of the depot shut and bolted ; and 
it was only after much explanation, seconded by my friend within, 
that I was permitted to repass. They had closed it as a precau- 
tion of safety. My companion suggested that we should take the 
half-past eight train, which stopped at Amiens, and there await 
the Brussels train ; " for," he added, " while you were out, I ob- 
served some trivial movements, which make me more willing to get 
away. For instance, a bloody-looking chap climbed the stone 
wall before my eyes, and after deliberately laying beside him a 
long, gleaming knife, and pistol, pounded oif the wires of the tel- 
egraph, and then descended. He looked ripe for any dreadful 
purpose." I was myself the more of his opinion in respect to mak- 
ing haste, as I recollected being told on the way in the morn- 
ing, that I should not get out of Paris by railroad, as the rails 
had been taken up by the rioters, to prevent the ingress of sol- 
diers to the city, — a report which convinced me that at least that 
was the intention, and that we had no time to lose. In a few 
moments, accordingly, we were breathing the morning air in 
the country, and leaving the glittering spires of the magnificent 
city, far behind. 

There was in the same carriage with us, a small party of French 
gentlemei and ladies leaving the city for safety. They were in a 



JOURNEY TO BRUSSELS. 299 

flood of emotion in view of the uncertain fate of their friends be- 
hind, and of their own fortunate situation. It were no slight task 
to paint the phrenzied, yet graceful grimmacing, shrugging, ges- 
ticulating of these amiable fugitives, as each, in turn, portx-ayed the 
scenes of his own experience for the last few days, — heightenino- 
the picture by the inimitable French tone and accent. One of 
the ladies, herself melted to tears from the tenderness cf her na- 
ture, described with such exquisite pathos as really to draw deeply 
upon our sympathies. 

Excepting the slightly sombre tint of feeling imparted by our 
companions, we were in the most delightful frame of mind imagi- 
nable. The balmy glow of the morning air, the exhilarating 
movement on our easy and voluptuous seat, the beautiful and di- 
versified landscape continually greeting our eyes with some new 
charm, rolling by like a pleasing panorama, added to a grateful re- 
lief from anxiety and a comfortable feeling of security, combined 
to render the morning ride all that could be wished. 

We sped along, touching, among other smaller places, at St. 
Dennis, Enghien, Ermont, Franconville, Herblay, and Pontoise 
Wherever we stopped, the citizens of all classes, borne away 
with a fever of excitement, swarmed around the cars, and liter- 
ally overwhelmed us with interrogatories touching the movements 
in Paris. At Franconville, an aged and maimed gentlemen hob- 
bled towards me, and, observing that I spoke English, begged that 
I would favor him with the news from Paris, — remarking that 
his French was so much at fault, that he never spoke that lan- 
guage if he could avoid it. He cordially shook my hand on 
leaving, and with true English hospitality entreated that I would 
make him a visit, should I ever come again that way. He had 
resided thirty years in France, yet his heart still clung to the 
scenes of early youth, and when he spoke of Ould England, the 



SOO CHESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

tears actually stood in his eyes. The Americans, he said, were 
next to the English — " God bless them ! " He lingered on the 
platform till we were fast receding from sight, when he waived us 
an affectionate adieu. 

On we galloped, screaming, snorting, puffing, by hill and plateau 
variegated with verdure, through dale and glen, and woodland, — ■ 
passing through Auvers, Isle- Adam, Beaumont, Precy, Saint-Leu, 
to Creil; then on through Campeigne, Cleremont, Breteuil, to 
Amiens, — seventy-two miles from Paris, where we arrived at 
half-past twelve, noon. 

The next train would pass in an hour ; barely leaving us time 
to swallow a dinner at a restaurant, and, afterwards, make a 
glimpse-stroll through the city. The meal, which was despatched 
with a zest known only to hunger, was served after the true 
Parisian mode. We could not but regret the want of time to ex- 
amine leisurely the nota^^e objects of the place. It possesses 
more than one attraction for the traveller. Situated on the river of 
the sLme name, by which it may be approached by iiat-bottomed ves- 
sels of forty or fifty tons, it is the centre of considerable trade, as 
well in its own productions, as in those of the surrounding country. 
It is well built ; streets for the most part straight and clean ; and 
it has some fine squares and promenades. It has a citadel, con- 
structed by Henry IV. ; an academy of sciences and belle-lettres ; 
a free-school of design ; a botanical garden ; a library of forty 
thousand volumes, and very considerable manufactures. The old 
Gothic cathedral, in excellent preservation, is one of the finest in 
Europe. Amiens is very ancient, being supposed to have existed 
anterior to the invasion of Belgium by the Eomans. It is known 
in diplomatic history, from the circumstance of a definitive treaty 
of peace between England and the French Republic having been 
Bigned in it, on the twenty-fifth of March, 1802. It is, likewise, 



INTERIOE OF BELGIUM. gQl 

the birth-place of the famous Peter the Hermit, the apostle of the 
first Crusade. 

We were at the depot in due season ; but the usual hour brought 
no train from Paris. We continued to tarry impatiently till the 
hands on the public clock had indicated two, three, even half-past 
three o'clock, but no arrival. 

The truth now dawned upon our minds. The rails had been 
removed from the track, near Paris, a few moments after our de- 
parture. My English companion, in a kind of childish ecstasy, 
now congratulated us on his lucky thought to take the half-past 
eight instead of the half-past nine o'clock train from Paris. We 
were thus saved a kind of imprisonment in the capital, the more 
troublesome from the uncertainty of its duration, and the ominous 
thickening of thrilling events. Our slight vexation at this un- 
expected delay was soon quieted, however, by the polite liber- 
ality of the prompt officials of the railway line, who readily 
brought out for our accommodation an extra train, in which they 
sent us on our way rejoicing. Here I was left to miss the pres- 
ence for the rest of the way, of my EngHsh acquaintance, who, 
on the starting of the cars, rather unceremoniously slipped me, 
and joined, in another carriage, a small, lively party of dashing 
young beaux and belles, all fragrant with the perfume of the 
toilette, and perfectly radiant with inward gaiety and joyousness. 
Less confident than he, I withstood the temptation to follow, and 
resumed my seat amid my former Paris acquaintances, who com- 
pensated me, in part at least, for the deprivation, by their perfect 
kindness and free communication. 

As we approached the interior of Belgium, the surface of the 
country became lower, and of a more uniform level. Indeed, ex- 
cept a ramification of the chain of the Ardennes, extending in a 
north-east direction, throiigh Luxembourg, Namur, and Liege, and 
26 



302 CKESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOKLD. 



anothei ^)ff-shoot of the Ardennes running parallel with, this, on 
the nortii banks of the Lambre and Meuse, between Mons and 
Maestricht, and a few hilly districts in the south and east, the 
whole territory presents a series of nearly level plains, traversed 
by numerous streams, delightfully diversified by woods, arable 
lands, and meadows of brilliant verdure, enclosed by hedge-rows, 
and thickly studded throughout with towns and villages. 

It is well known that much of the fertile and cultivated soil of 
Belgium has been redeemed from the ocean, or from the stagnant 
waters of the rivers by which it is intersected. History states 
that, in the ages immediately preceding and subsequent to, the 
Christian era, much of the great plain which now comprises the 
provinces of W. and E. Flanders and Antwerp, was partially 
overflowed by the ocean. The soil was so marshy that an inun- 
dation or a tempest threw down whole forests, such as are still dis- 
covered below the surface. The sea and rivers had no hmits, 
and the earth no solidity. Many of the inhabitants of this low 
country lived in huts placed upon the mounds of sand, or elevated 
above the reach of the tides, upon stakes. " Your kingdom," said 
Napoleon, to his brother Louis, " may be defined the deposit of 
the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Scheldt, the great arteries of my 
empire." 

As we bounded gaily along, we were struck with the picturesque 
costume of the husbandmen already in the fields with their clumsy 
and unique implements, preparing for the summer's crop. The 
sight of women performing the agricultural drudgery of beasts of 
burden, brought a thrill of gratitude in view of the superior con- 
dition of my own countrywomen. The farms were for the most 
part exceedingly small, from five to twenty acres in extent, but 
cultivated with the greatest neatness and taste. Nearly a fifth of 
the whole surface of the kinofdom is covered with forests and 



TREES AND FORESTS. 30< 



woods; and a general woody appearance is given even to the most 
cultivated parts of Belgium, by the custom of planting trees in 
the hedge enclosures of the fields. The principal roads are also 
lined by double rows of majestic lindens, and the canals are 
usually shaded by rows of poplars, beeches, and willows. All the 
common trees of Europe abound. The forest of Soignies is asso- 
ciated with the memorable battle of Waterloo. A thousand acres 
of this was owned by the late Duke of "Wellington, in connection 
with his title of Prince of Waterloo. The romantic forest of St. 
Hubert is Shakspeare's " Forest of Arden." 

Most of the houses in the smaller villages through which we 
passed, were built of red brick, with thatched or tiled roofs, pro- 
ducing a combination of the gay and rural, singularly unique and 
striking. One of our company, pointing to the fortifications of a 
small town, observed to me that it was an interesting feature of 
the smaller towns of the North of Europe. There are twenty-one 
of these in Belgium. They served to protect in a measure their 
citizens from the ravages of the numerous wars of which the 
country has been the doomed theatre. Indeed this beautiful coun- 
try has been from time immemorial the battle field of Europe. 



CHAPTEE XXII. 

ARRIVAL AT BRUSSELS — OFFICIALS — IKTEXSE EXCITEMENT OP 
THE CROWD — A WORCESTER GENTLEMAN — APPEARANCE OF 
THE CITY — LADY OF THE AMERICAN MINISTER — PALAIS DIT 
CONGRESS — CHAMBERS OF PARLIAMENT — BELGIUM — THEA- 
TRES — YOUTHFUL PERFORMERS — RESIGNATION OF LOUIS 
PHILLIPPE, AND FLIGHT OF THE ROYAL FAMILY — BOULE- 
VARDS AND CAFES — SCHOOLS — HOTEL DU VILLE — PALACE 
OF FINE ARTS — CELEBRATED PAINTERS. 

On account of our detention at Amiens, it was late in the eve- 
ning when we reached Brussels. The news of the revolution of 
Paris had preceded us, and we were, in consequence, surrounded 
hj people on landing, eager to learn the latest intelligence. The 
officer declining to inspect mj baggage, I hastened to the nearest 
hotel, a few steps from the depot. Being the only passenger who 
stopped at this hotel, I was closely surrounded, on entering, and 
pressed for information. Two officials from the Palace of Laer- 
kin, coming in, the crowd, from a deference shown officers in mon- 
archical governments, readily yielded a small space around me. 
These dignitaries, with an excited manner, questioned me minute- 
ly respecting the thrilling and astounding events that were trans- 
piring in Paris ; and after thanking me for my complaisance, took 
a dignified and pohte leave. They had no sooner closed the door, 
when the crowd, denser than before, actually pressed full upon 



AN AMERICAN GENTLEMAN. 305 

me, and with intense eagerness, but good naturedlj expressed, 
clamored for news from Paris. Questions were put to me so rap- 
idly, and of so varied import, amid such confusion, that I was at 
last overwhelmed, exhausted, and could say nothing more. In 
this dilemma, I observed at the outer edge of the crowd a gentle- 
man something like half a head taller than those around him, vig- 
orously elbowing his way toward me. His erect form and bold 
movement showed resoluteness, while his countenance, rendered 
French-like by an elegant moustache, beamed with animation. As 
soon as he approached within hailing distance, his voice drowning 
all others, reached my ear, assured me a little, and thus set me on 
the track of answering his questions. Presently, however, per- 
ceiving my embarrassment in expressing myself readily, he 
stopped suddenly short, begged to know how long I was in Paris, 
and what country I was from. On seizing from my lips the name 
Boston, he burst forth in a tone of mingled delight and astonish- 
ment, but in an exclamation a little irreverent, " ^jjust 

where I am from." It was Mr. G , of Worcester, who had 

been in Europe a year or more, — and who, singular to say, 
lodged while in Paris, in the very next hotel to mine, which he 
left but a few days before the memorable 2 2d of February, 
without our having seen each other. As he was the more fluent in 
French, he yielded to my solicitation to become my interpreter to 
the news-devouring throng. Yet, later in the evening, when the 
crowd had fully withdrawn, Mr. G. and myself had a most glo- 
rious tete-a-tete. It is needless to say that it was long past 
midnight before we parted to retire. None, I will venture to say, 
but those who have experienced it, can conceive the perfect de- 
light felt on the meeting of countrymen in a foreign land. It 
centres with a rush upon the heart all the dearest associations of 
home and country, enkindling it to a glow of fraternal enthusiasm 
26* 



306 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



experienced, indeed, but never described. Ceremony, tlie cold, 
dampening cloud which envelops character, is at once dissipated 
by the sunshine of the beaming soul, and the best feelings of our 
nature appear in unreserve. We had much to talk over of what 
we had seen, and the impressions we had gathered therefrom, be- 
sides a mutual exchange of a chapter of our personal history, 
as well as making sittings of persons whom we happened mutually 
to know in the U. States ; and all this was done with the frank- 
ness and freedom of long acquaintance, though we had not known 
each other before that evening. 

Feb. 2bth. Arose early, and after a frugal breakfast, made 
alone my morning's promenade for first impressions of a city 
which I had for a long time yearned to visit. I found it not very 
unlike the idea I had formed from the many descriptions I had 
read. A large portion of the city being built on the acclivity of 
a hill, it presents, when viewed on the west, a picturesque amphi- 
theatre of houses ; and the great inequality of the elevation of its 
site has often induced a comparison with Naples and Genoa. The 
figure described by the outline of it resembles that of a pear, the 
smaller part pointing S. S. W. A century ago the city was sur- 
rounded with ramparts. The site of these fortifications has been 
converted into spacious boulevards, planted with rows of stately 
linden trees that encircle two-thirds of the city. These boulevards 
command extensive views of the country, and afford an agreeable 
promenade. The scenery of the adjacent country is beautifully 
diversified by sloping heights, and green valleys refreshed by the 
waters of the Seune. Many of the streets are wide and regular, 
and are paved generally with large flint-stones. The ancient part 
of Brussels is ornamented by many fine specimens of the florid 
style of architecture ; and the modern part exhibits many excel- 
lent buildings erected about fifty years ago, — but there is an uni- 



LADY OF THE AMERICAN MINISTER. 307 

formlty in tlie appearance of the dwelling-liouses not pleasing to 
tlie eye. 

After a breakfast a la Frangais, I passed, in company with Mr. 
G., to pay my respects to the American Minister. He being ab- 
sent, we were received by his lady in a manner natural only to 
ladies of Southern nativity, who have enjoyed large intercourse 
with elevated society. ]Mr. G. had already been honored with 
her acquaintance, and the conversation between them immediately 
turned upon the fine arts and the social amenities of the city. 
Madame the Minister read a note in French, which had been in- 
trusted to her for Mr. G., with pure Parisian accent. 

The conversation then turned upon the all-absorbing topic of 
the day — the insurrection in Paris ; and learning that I was just 
from the capital, her interest in the subject acquired a most lively 
animation. Her voluble tongue seemed as conversant with Euro- 
pean politics, as with the intimate affairs of court circles. In al- 
lusion to the communication being intercepted, by the removal of 
the rails on the railway near Paris, and the breaking of the tel- 
egraph-wires, by the insurgents, she thought that railroads and 
telegraph-wires were in every way excellent in countries where 
the people pulled with the government, but that these modern 
glorious improvements often proved exceedingly embarrassing to 
reigning powers in revolutions. She observed, further, that many 
liberal minded and right hearted people in Europe would gladly 
favor a general revolution for free institutions, but that so rotten 
did they consider the present political edifice, as not to dare lay- 
ing violent hands on it, for fear of hopeles.sly burying society be- 
neath its tottering ruins. She was perfectly simple in her man- 
ner, conversed with force, point, and luminous ease, and expressed 
herself in French with precision, and an almost native fluency 
and grace. She was a little below the medium stature of Amer- 



308 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



ican ladies, of ratlier dark complexion, but of an agreeable coun- 
tenance, and an eye, when animated in conversation, to remind you 
at once of the great Southern statesman, John C. Calhoun, of 
whom she is a daughter, and, I doubt not, no unworthy represen- 
tative. There was standing a half finished portrait in an adjoining 
room, in regard to which she incidentally observed, that her hus- 
band was wont to spend some of his leisure hours in gratifying 
his extreme predilection for painting. Indeed, the duties of an 
American ambassador at Brussels are not particularly engrossing ; 
and it is said, with good reason, that there is no foreign embassy 
more eligible, either in regard to its freedom from expense, the 
leisure it affords, or the agreeableness of society, than that at 
Brussels. 

"We went successively to the Museum and to the office of the 
Minister of the Interior, who is, also, the Minister of Public In- 
struction, but found them closed. At the Palais du Congres we 
were more successful. Here we gained ready admittance, and 
found the two branches in session. They appeared decorous 
bodies, and deliberated with a gravity hardly natural to the Bel- 
gian manners. The edifice, which is magnificent, is ornamented 
with fluted Doric columns and appropriate sculptures. Marble 
stairs on each side of a spacious hall ascend to the two Chambers 
of Parliament, which are elegantly fitted up for the reception of 
Members. The public are admitted into both chambers during 
the debates, females as well as males ; and for this accommoda- 
tion, the Chamber of Deputies contains a capacious gallery. 

Belgium proclaimed its independence in 1830. It is governed 
by a constitutional monarchy ; and the whole system of govern- 
ment is based upon the broadest principles of rational freedom 
and liberality. 

At dinner we were joined by a third gentleman, whose acquaint- 



AN INTEEESTING CHAEACTEE. g09 



ance my companion had accidentally formed, since being in Brus- 
sels ; and finding him much to his purpose, was not unwilling to 
continue his society, which he did by an occasional invitation te 
dine with him. The person alluded to, though evidently pecu 
niarily destitute, had the manners of a gentleman, and an intelli- 
gence very remarkable. His knowledge of men and things was 
really wonderful. Hardly a place, event, or person of distinc 
tion, in Europe, could be mentioned, but that he could describe 
readily all worth knowing about it. He was a living book of 
Brussels. Had he been born with the city itself, and had free- 
dom and leisure ever since to observe its growth and changes, his 
information could scarcely have been more full or minute. It was 
rumored that he had once been very wealthy, was highly educated, 
and was an amateur in the various departments of learning and 
art, — but having lost or squandered his fortune, was now eking 
out a living in the only way consistent with his taste and his ideas 
of honor. But be that as it may, his deportment towards us was 
always scrupulously polite, deferential and obliging, without the 
slightest tint of servility. I could not but observe in him a grave 
and thoughtful air, from which no excess of humor on our part 
could draw him. Similar personages are frequently to be met with 
in Europe. They linger about thoroughfares, and are at the 
service of travellers, on terms quite easy. Some such I had met 
with before, but never one altogether of so elevated respectability 
as this. 

After dinner, at five o'clock in the afternoon, the gentleman above 

named, handed Mr. G a pack of complimentary tickets to one 

of the theatres. They required, however, a trifling sum to be paid 
on them, to make them current. We were not disposed to slight 
so marked an invitation, and accordingly set out in lively mood. 
"We found the building not at all imposing in appearance, and the 



310 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

interior quite humble, but neat and tasteful, however. The first 
act had already commenced. It was a kind of ballet that they 
were performing. Presently, our eyes were delightfully greeted 
with a perfect shower of dancing girls, which half-filled the stage. 
They might have been from eight to fifteen years of age. They 
were tastefully robed in white, with a garland of flowers for head- 
dress, and appeared charmingly pretty. They went through a 
series of dances in groups, with surprising grace, and precision. 
The wonder to us was, whence issued such a multitude of young 
girls. Mr. G. ventured, at their expense, a witticism upon their 
ambiguous origin, but the scene imparted to my own mind some- 
thing of a melancholy tinge. 

The second play, entitled the Lesson of Love, possessed really 
several good points, and was admirably performed. The acting 
here, as in Paris, struck me as vastly superior in quality to any- 
thing of the kind that I had witnessed in the United States. Here 
the genius of the stage appeared to be the child of Nature ; while 
with us she seems rather the offspring of art. The scene was 
followed by dancing by two girls, perhaps twelve years of age. 
They came bounding gracefully in upon the stage, captivating our 
senses by their tasteful dress, exquisite form, and fairy move- 
ments, while their delicately modest demeanor won deeply upon 
our esteem. Their intricate evolutions and difiicult steps often 
thrilled me with admiration ; and they more than once carried 
surprise to the entire audience, bringing down the whole house 
with a perfect rapture of applause. They seemed gently to vie 
with each other in winning the admiration of the audience, and so 
equally balanced was their excellence, that Mr. G. and myself 
could not decide upon which to award our preference. Just as 
we had decided upon one, the other, by some surpassing feat of 
grace, would wrest the palm from her fair riva?^ These girls were 



ABDICATION OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 31X 



doubtless inferior to Taglioni, and kindred stars, their limbs not 
having attained the firmness for long sustained effort; but we 
could not but pronounce them very promising candidates for the 
world's applause. To me, the simple innocence of their youth in- 
vested them with a charm not found with other dancers. 

Feb. 26th. Long before daylight I was suddenly aroused from 
a sweet slumber, by loud raps at my door from i\Ir. G., who in a 
deep fervor of excitement communicated the astounding intelli- 
gence from Paris, of the resignation of Louis Phillippe, the flight 
of the royal family, the proclamation of the Provisional Govern- 
ment, with Lamartine at the head, the sacking of the Tuileries 
by the mob, and other thrilling events. The news ran through 
the city Hke wild-fire, producing in all minds an electric shock of 
emotion. Those who remember the starthng effect the intelli- 
gence first produced upon the American public, separated from 
the grand scene by three thousand miles of ocean, can faintly ima- 
gine the impression made in Brussels, the capital of a border- 
ing state, closely allied to France by an identity of interest and 
feeling. The queen, then residing in the city, was the daughter 
of Louis Phillippe. The language of all the better classes is 
French. All the best French works, in every department of 
science and literature, are reprinted in Brussels with equal neat- 
ness and accuracy, nearly as soon as they appear in Paris. Paris 
and the Parisians are the models which the people of Brussels are 
ambitious to imitate. There is an anxious observance of French 
manners and fashions among the wealthy classes. The grand 
features of Paris, namely, its circumambient boulevards, its splen- 
did cafes, its palace garden, its grand theatre for the operatic 
drama, and the smaller one for Yaudervilles, and many other sim- 
ilar points, find faithful copies in Brussels, and have gained it the 
significant appellation of " Paris in miniature." It is not surpris- 



Sj,2 crests from the ocean-world. 

ing, then, that the intelligence from Paris should have produced a 
fermentation in all minds ; for with some reason it was feared 
that a revolution in Paris might be a revolution in Brussels, if not 
a continental insurrection. 

I called, after breakfast, upon M. Boeuf, the Minister of the In- 
terior, for information in respect to the schools. He received me 
cordially, and comphed with my wish with the utmost readiness, 
— appearing gratified at the opportunity of making me acquainted 
with their system of instruction, and evincing an emotion of pride in 
view of the Belgian schools as standing among the first, if not them- 
selves the very first in point of excellence, in Europe. He under*- 
took to draw up for me on the spot a list of the schools and literary 
institutions that I should inspect, in order to understand fully the 
scope and character of their system. In doing this, he evinced so 
great trepidation, frequently leaving off and pacing the room in 
uncontrollable mental excitement, that I ventured to ask the cause 
of his agitation. He frankly owned that the news from Paris had 
completely unstrung his nervous system. 

His ofiice was in the quaint old Hotel de Ville, in the grand 
place, or central market place. It is one of the largest and most 
remarkable of those civic palaces, in the florid Gothic style, that 
are to be seen in perfection only in the Netherlands. It was 
erected in 1400. The architecture is Lombardo-Gothicy 
with a great profusion of quaint sculptures, pointed turrets, 
and other fanciful and intricate ornaments. In the front are forty 
windows, and in the lofty sloping roof, eighty more. At a point 
remarkably distant from the centre of the front, an elaborately 
ornamented pyramidal tower, open throughout to the summit, rises 
to the height of three hundred and sixty-four feet, and commands 
a fine view of the surrounding country, including the battle field 
of "Waterloo. It is surmounted by a colossal copper gilt statue, 



PALACE OF FINE ARTS. ^^ 



seventeen feet high, of St. Michael crushing a dragon, which 
turns about to serve for a weather-cock. The interior of the 
building is entered by a spacious flight of steps, and the lofty halls 
and saloons exhibit many curious old paintings, gilded carvings, 
and specimens of fine tapestry. 

During the day, Mr. G. and myself made a visit in company 
to the Palace of Fine Arts. We first looked in at the gallery of 
paintings. The collection comprises about five hundred, by the 
great Flemish masters from Van Eyck to Reubens and his nume- 
rous pupils. It was indeed a rich treat, — those sublime mortal 
productions. I stole there ever afterwards, whenever an hour of 
leisure afforded me an opportunity, and hngered spell-bound with 
delight. Mr. G., who evinced a peevish fastidiousness upon 
French and Belgian matters in general, was glowing in his admi- 
ration of many of the paintings. We were both struck with a 
head by Rembrandt. It is an old painting, but the features were 
as soft and fresh as hfe itself The light frizzled hair stood so 
mellowingly out from the canvas, that you were tempted to run 
your fingers through it. I gazed often and long upon a Descent 
from the Cross, by Vandyke. The agonized features of the 
dead Saviour, and the painted anguish of Mary at his feet, were 
rendered with a deep truthfulness. There were several large 
paintings by Reubens, which strikingly illustrate the grandeur of 
his genius. The canvas is crowded with figures thrown into all 
possible attitudes, but so natural, that the most careful study of 
each reveals no fault. There is, also, a boldness and ease in the 
drawing, a strength and firmness in delineation, and brilliancy and 
contrast in coloring, which impart life and majesty to the picture. 
The paintings bore, too, the apparent negligence of great genius. 
They appeared as if executed in extreme haste, some of them look- 
ing as if scarcely finished. A heel, for instance, which at a distance 
27 



314 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



became symmetrical with the body, when examined near, looked 
as if made with the single daub of the brush. It required, how- 
ever, little attention to perceive that the surpassing excellencea 
of Reubens are accompanied with striking faults ; one of which is 
that of women without beauty or grace. The female faces all 
resemble each other, and bear almost a vicious expression. 

Belgium has had the rare honor of producing two different 
schools of painting. The first arose under Hubert and Jolm Van 
Eyck, or John of Bruges, about the year 1440. The ruling 
spirits of the second school, were Reubens and his pupil Vandyke, 
who flourished about 1600. At the present time, the Royal 
Academy of Fine Arts at Antwerp is the principal school of 
painting, and it produces every year several artists of the highest 
distinction. It is supported by the public, and is usually attended 
by at least a thousand students. 

Brussels possesses a Royal establishment for lithography, and 
an excellent school for engraving, where designing is taught, and 
the different kinds of engraving on copper and wood. 

From the Gallery of Paintings, we passed into the Museum of 
Natural History, surpassing in extent every other in the kingdom. 
The departments of Zoology, Ornithology, Entomology, and Min- 
eralogy are especially replete with rare and admirable specimens, 
including animals from the Dutch East Indian Colonies, Russian 
minerals, and all the volcanic products of Mount Vesuvius. 

"We next walked through the great public library in another 
part of the edifice. It contains nearly 140,000 volumes, and 
15,000 manuscripts. The latter were collected at a very early 
period, by the dukes of Burgundy, and are esteemed of great 
value ; many being richly adorned with miniature paintings of 
exquisite beauty, by the early Flemish artists ; and the greater 



PUBLIC LIBRARY. 315 



part are splendidly bound in crimson morocco. Above two thou- 
sand volumes of the books were printed in the fifteenth centmy. 

This spacious building serves, also, for pubHc lectures, which 
are delivered gratuitously every day by the most eminent profes- 
sors, on the various branches of learning. 

On my return, I found at my lodgings a spacious envelope, with 
the broad seal of the State, displaying the Belgique Lion, — en- 
'Ciosing two handsome letters of introduction to the Principals of 
the Norman Schools at Liege and Nevelles. 



CHAPTEE XXIII. 

SYMPTOMS OF REVOLUTION IN BELGIUM — COMMUNAL SCHOOLS — 

CATHEDRAL OF GUDULE — RELIGIOUS SECTS LAMARTINE — 

MARRIAGE, IN EUROPE AND THE UNITED STATES — ACADEMIES 

— BOTANIC GARDEN — INFLUENCE OF LAMARTINE — CARNIVAL 

— HERO-WORSHIP — SHOPPING — CARPET AND LACE FACTORIES. 

Feb. 28th. I was slightly disturbed the last night by a turmoil 
in the square under my window. I was afterwards told that it 
was an unsuccessful attempt to get up an emute after the style in 
Paris. The whole affair, however, was promptly quashed by the 
government-police, who had, from the first, exercised the utmost 
vigilance. Ordinances were posted at every corner, forbidding, 
among other things, the assembling of more than five persons at 
the same place. The police last evening closed the doors of one 
of the principal theatres, on the pretext that the play contained 
some passages of a seditious nature. The excitement was very 
great in the city ; still, the most enlightened minds did not think 
there could be a revolution in Belgium. There was but little to 
reform in the minds of the people. The masses of the nation 
were contented and happy. The government was strong, and the 
king enthroned in the hearts of his subjects generally. By one 
of those happy movements which frequently give a favorable turn 
to the current of fortune, he forestalled any discontents of the 
populace. Calling around him his ministers, he formally announced 
to them, that he would not have a drop of blood spilled for him, 



PEIMAEY SCHOOLS. 317 



— if the nation desired his abdication, he was readj to tender 
them his crown ; but if they should choose to adhere to his reio-n, 
he would lead their armies in person wherever it should be neces- 
eary, — ready at any time to lay down his life for his country. 
Both branches of the legislature promptly replied to this generous 
resolution of the king, assuring him of their warm and unanimous 
adhesion ; and when it was spread on the wings of the press through 
the country, the heart of the nation responded by petitions nume- 
rously signed from all parts of the country, begging him to accept 
their devotion and sympathy. 

I visited, to-day, one of the city primary schools. The director 
at first stated that it would be necessary to obtain a written per- 
mit from the minister. On presenting my letter, he cordially in- 
vited me in, giving me politely and readily all the intelligence I 
desired. The school was composed of eight hundred day schol- 
ars, and three hundred evening scholars. They are separated 
into divisions of one hundred, each of which occupies a separate 
apartment. To each division there is a master and an assistant. 
The boys, who are kept separate from the girls, are taught by 
males, and the girls by females. The superintendent, who had 
enjoyed large experience as a practical educator, who had travel- 
led in the German States, and had read much and written upon 
the subject of education, was decidedly of opinion, that schools 
taught by men are superior to such as are instructed by women. 
He stated, on his personal knowledge, that the experiment had 
been made on a large scale, under fair circumstances, — and the 
result proved, that while women of high intellectual character and 
strong energy may do for girls and small boys, only male teachers 
can be employed to the greatest advantage for lads and young 
men. So far as I could learn, a similar opinion prevails among 
educationists in Germany, England, and France. The rooms here 
27* 



318 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

were commodious and well ventillated by means of the windows. 
The forms, or benches, were long enough for several pupils, and 
provided with inkstands. Some of them had slates set into the 
tops of the forms. Every room was supplied with outline maps, 
and a table of weights and measures. The black-boards were ar- 
ranged to slide up and down in a case, very conveniently. The 
alphabet was taught from little blocks with the letters painted 
upon them, ingeniously arranged in a case, before which the class 
stood at recitation. A novel apparatus was pointed out to me, for 
teaching pupils to count. I witnessed a most gratifying exercise 
of a class of pupils about seven years of age, who wrote readily, 
and generally with correctness, sentences on the black-board, as 
they were dictated to them by the teacher, who assured me that 
they all commenced learning the alphabet but three months be- 
fore. It should be observed, however, that the orthography of 
the French is more regular than that of the English. All the 
pupils were carefully instructed both in French and Flemish. 
The boys are taught drawing, the girls, needlework and embroid- 
ery. The materials and text-books are furnished by the city ; and 
the articles of fabrication are distributed among the more deserv- 
ing scholars. The order of the school was good. All corporal 
punishment was forbidden by law. A register of deportment, 
scholarship, and absence, was kept with exactitude, and exposed 
to public examination. The doors of the school-room were closed 
precisely at the time of the commencement of the school, and no 
pupil admitted after that hour. The best teachers received about 
four hundred dollars per annum. In addition to the salary, they 
usually have a room at the school-building furnished with lights 
and fuel. Provision is also made for the sickness or old age of 
teachers, and for their families after their decease. The director, 
who had been a long time connected with the schools of the city, 



HIGH POSTAGE. 319 



informed me tliat I was the first American, to his knowledge, who 
had actually inspected their schools. 

March 1st. For franking a single letter as far as England, 
they charged me to-day at the post-office, thirty-nine cents ! At 
that rate, all travellers would be sincere in wishing a revision of 
the postal laws of Belgium. 

Took a final leave, to-day, of Mr. G., who was to set off imme- 
diately for Pai'is, to witness the scenes of the thrilling drama 
being enacted there. His curiosity and adventurous spirit had 
become wrought up to the highest pitch, and he was often mur- 
muring at his ill-luck for having missed seeing the entire affair. 
To leave Europe without having had a personal view of the rev- 
olution, and having tasted the stirring emotions of the rapid events 
of the great capital, would be indeed a misfortune. He therefore 
left in a great excitement of interest, intending to go on the rail- 
road to the break, and then trust to his energy and fortune to 
reach and enter the capital. This spirit of heroic enterprise shone 
in marked contrast with the effeminate temerity of a young Paris- 
ian gentleman who chanced to be sitting near us at table at dinner 
the day before. The conversation naturally turning upon the 
present revolution in Paris, he stated that his wife and two chil- 
dren were in Paris, for whose safety he expressed deep solicitude, 
but did not hesitate to declare that the danger was too great to 
think of going there after them. 

Going homeward, I stepped into an estaminet for a lunch. The 
garcon not comprehending exactly my demand, his hesitancy was 
relieved by a young gentleman near me, partaking of a frugal col- 
lation. He was enveloped in a rather pedantic-looking cloak, but 
possessed an intelligent and agreeable countenance. This incident 
led to an intimate acquaintance between us of decided mutual ad- 
vantage. He proved to be a Belgian by birth, but had resided 



320 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

sufficiently long in Germany and France to speak the languages 
of those countries with purity and ease. He was now ardently 
employing his leisure moments in the acquisition of the English, 
which he already read quite well, and could even speak with re- 
markable accuracy and correctness of pronunciation. He was 
employed as clerk in an extensive silk store, and spent a part 
of his evenings in instructing a small class of young ladies in 
the German language, — one of them the daughter of his em- 
ployer. To my inquiries for learning the secret of his great suc- 
cess in acquiring languages, he observed that he owed much to 
two principles to which he rigidly adhered. One was, to master 
if possible every point as he came to it, and the other, to retain 
fully whatever he learned. He was in the practice of making a 
note of all difficult idioms and new words, as he met with them in 
reading, putting the list in his pocket, and recurring to it sufficient- 
ly often to indelibly impress the whole upon his mind. We struck 
up immediately an arrangement by which he met with me daily 
in my room. We there spent an hour in conversation, and then 
made a stroll through the city, he expressing himself always in 
English, and I in French. So great was his desire to visit the 
U. States, that he assured me of his intention of making the tour 
as soon as he could honorably disengage himself from his em- 
ployer. But since he has not, to my knowledge, fulfilled this de- 
sign, I am more than half led to suspect the influence of somo 
gentle treachery among the members of his very beautiful ckiss. 

March 2d, Weather moist and fitful, as usual at this season. 
At one moment, the sun smiling gladsomely through the bursting 
clouds ; at the next, the streets being drenched with rain. It were 
not safe to leave your hotel without an umbrella, however serene 
might be the sky. 

In the afternoon I visited another of the Communal schoois. 



COMMUNAL SCHOOLS. 321 

As before, the director gravely asked me for mj permit. On pre- 
senting it, his scruples readily gave way, and he most kindly showed 
me over the school. It did not differ materially from the one pre- 
viously visited, except that the order was quite indifferent. This 
teacher v/as of the same opinion as the director of the school 
before-mentioned, in respect to the comparative merits of male 
and female teachers. Music w^as generally taught in the school ; 
and I witnessed an exercise with very young pupils which I 
thought highly creditable to their musical powers and to the skill 
of the teachers. My conductor himself did not fail to commend 
warmly the excellence of parts of the school, and showed very 
significantly that he expected that I should do the same; — no un- 
common way of challenging admiration ! I observed here and 
elsewhere, in Belgium, the pronunciation of the French e mute, 
to be more open than the sound given the same letter in 
Paris. The power of the letter prevailing in Brussels differs not 
widely from the way it is represented in Bolmar's Levizac's 
Grammar, which, by the way, is not the true Paris j)ronun- 
ciation. 

I afterwards looked into a girl's school. It, like most of the 
schools of the same class, was conducted by the Sisters of Charity 
— a fraternity resembling in dress, manners, and meekness of 
spirit, the Friends. Their benevolence and devotion are proverbial. 
They either receive no compensation for their arduous services, or 
the merest pittance, just to suffice their simple needs. If any class 
on earth seem imbued thoroughly w^ith a Christian and humane 
spirit, it is the Sisters of Charity. Their hfe-deeds best bespeak 
their eulogy, — but their humane expression, also, gives clear evi- 
dence of a consecrated heart. The pupils are taught the common 
branches, in which they gave evidence of having been well 
instructed. A division of the school were taught embroidery, and 



322 CEESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

various kinds of more common handicraft, and the specimens of 
their work shown me were neat and beautiful. This branch of 
female industry is more commonly practised in the European 
schools, than with us. The under-directress of the estabhshment 
received me with an air of unaffected politeness ; and without re- 
quiring a letter of introduction, as did the former teachers, took 
me leisurely and kindly over the establishment. The rooms and 
interior arrangement were neat and comfortable, but plain and 
useful, — nothing expended for mere ornament. All the girls 
were taught sewing, both the fine and the coarser styles; and 
some specimens were shown me that I thought would have done 
credit to the skill of a practised seamstress. 

March 3d. Sauntered out with the view to continue my re- 
searches in the public schools ; but it being Thursday afternoon, 
— in conformity with the usage, a conge, or afternoon-holiday, had 
emptied the rooms of their contents of youthful life. At the 
Palace of Arts and Industry I learned that there is no machine 
in Belgium, — and I had previously learned that there is none in 
France, — for knitting seines, or nets. The immense quantity con- 
tinually needed must still be all knit in the old way, by hand. My 
young friend, in Massachusetts, who has labored for years, so per- 
severingly in inventing a machine for knitting seines, may be 
cheered with the assurance that, if he succeeds in his undertaking, 
he will thereby not only confer a lasting benefit to human industry, 
but gain a name among the distinguished, and a comfortable 
fortune. 

I afterwards looked into the cathedral of St. Gudule, the largest 
and finest in Brussels. It was founded 1010 ; and here the first 
chapter of the chivalric order of the Golden Fleece was held by 
Phillip le Bon, in 1435. There is an aspect of imposing gran- 
deur in its spacious front, that impresses profoundly the mind of 



CATHEDRAL OF GUDULE. 323 

the beholder. The church is surmounted bj two large, square 
towers, from the top of which Antwerp is distinctly visible at a 
distance of twenty-seven miles. One of these contains a bell that 
weighs 1435 pounds. In the interior, against the pillars which di- 
vide the lateral aisles from the nave, and support the lofty roof, 
are placed finely sculptured statues of the twelve apostles, ten 
feet in height, at an elevation of twenty-five feet from the floor. 
The pulpit is certainly curious and striking. It is formed of 
wonderfully carved groups of figures the size of life, representing 
the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise. The glass of 
the principal window displays a magnificent representation of the 
last judgment, by the celebrated Flemish painter, Francis Flors ; 
and several other antique-painted windows of this noble cathedral 
are exceedingly brilliant and beautiful. Its altars and sumptuous 
mausoleums of sculptured marble, and numerous fine paintings, 
are objects worthy of especial note. The organ, too, is remark- 
able for the depth and power of its intonations and perfect unison ; 
but that which most attracts a curious spectator is one of the side 
chapels — a large and splendidly ornamented oratory — called 
St. Sacrament des Miracles, from its being the sanctuary in which 
are preserved three miraculous consecrated wafers, said to have 
been stolen by Jews in the fourteenth century, and miraculously 
recovered. These wafers are still annually paraded with great 
pomp through the principal streets. 

Brussels contains several other grand and venerable cathedral 
churches, erected in the middle ages. Four only of sixteen are 
considered primary, and belong each to one of the four arrondisse- 
ments into which the city is divided ; the others, although little 
inferior in appearance, are secondary m rank. 

At the summit of the lofty spire which surmounts Notre Dame 
de la Chapelley is stationed a watchman, who sounds a trumpet 



324 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



every quarter of an hour during the night, in proof of his wake- 
ful vigilance ; and on seeing a fire, he blows a shrill and incessant 
blast to hasten the attendance of the engines. 

The inhabitants of Brussels are Cathohcs, but all religious ten- 
ets are tolerated. The Church of England service is performed 
in several Protestant chapels, for the accommodation of the nume- 
rous English residents. And their Lutheran king, Leopold, at- 
tends Protestant service in his private chapel. And, besides, the 
Jews, of whom there are ten thousand in the whole kingdom, have 
their general consistory in Brussels, and a handsome synagogue. 

I found the evening journals in my frequented cafe, filled with 
incidents of the revolution, and with speculations upon its results. 
Some of the royal family, after many cruel vicissitudes, had reached 
England, that generous refuge of exiled royalty. There were 
numerous conjectures as to the fate of the king. As I mused 
upon his checkered life, I felt sad at the fickleness of fortune, that 
had sported so wantonly and unfeelingly with its favorite. Lamar- 
tine w^as now the bright particular star, beaming with resplendent 
effulgence upon the chaotic darkness of a troubled sea. He was 
powerfully concentrating all the energies of his noble heart and 
grand and richly cultivated genius, to combine the elements of 
order, and give stability and harmonious movement to civil affairs. 
His efforts were really incredible, and his success was proportion- 
ably commensurate. The dread of the conservative mind of the 
nation, that some excess would deluge society in blood, had has- 
tened many to yield their adhesion to the new government. Mn 
Rush, our American minister, in the just spirit of an enlightened 
forecast, was the first of the foreign ambassadors. Among the 
journals, the Journal des Debats, the Government paper, had quite 
turned round to the support of the new regime. It must be con- 
fessed, that the somerset it had to make, was most gracefully and 



LANDLADY OF THE HOTEL. 325 



adroitly done. To the praise of the new government, one of its 
first acts was the reforming of the school law. To the credit of 
the French character, let it be said, that in the momentous crisis 
of February, 1848, the heart and intelligence of the nation 
seemed to comprehend the necessity of mutual forbearance, union, 
harmony. 

Spent the remainder of the evening in a most gratifying tete-a- 
tete with Madame, my amiable landlady, and a particular friend 
of her late husband. The favor was granted me in consideration 
of my being a foreigner, and especially an American. She had 
been a widow but a few months, but was fast regaining her wonted 
vivacity of mind. The morning of a brighter day was just gleam- 
ing forth from the night of her late widowhood. The soft twi- 
light of radiance invested her with a subdued but rather fascinating 
charm. Her elegant figure gracefully robed in black, her raven 
curls, long, dark eye-lashes, and smile tempered with slightly som- 
bre hue, imparted a chastened and sweet expression to her spirited 
and forcible character. She was, perhaps, thirty years of age. 
She spoke freely of her late husband, whose memory she res- 
pected ; but their union had been unfortunate. Slight bodily ills 
had rendered him unfit for active pursuit, but had not taken from 
him the relish for society and love of pleasure. He was accord- 
ingly wont to spend the most of his time from home, in the cafes 
and other places of public resort, lounging and whiling the hours 
in vapid amusements. Their joint patrimony being soon squan- 
dered, his loving and devoted wife sprang the resources of her fer- 
tile character, to relieve the embarrassment. She opened a hotel 
for letting rooms to travellers, at the same time keeping herself a 
variety-store in one part of the same building. She thus not only 
supported comfortably a family of small children, with servants, 
but was enabled to hand over something to indulge the habits of 

28 



526 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



her husband. I could not but regard her as a fine illustraWxjn of 
the capability of woman to rise superior to fortune. She seemed 
completely master of her circumstances. With a nursing child in 
her arms, she might be seen at one time superintending the af- 
fairs of the house, ordering the servants, or receiving company ; 
at another, in her store, in her peculiarly engaging manner, win- 
ning largely from the purse of her customers ; and at all times 
equable, gracious, animating. She honored matrimony, and yearned 
to confide in the generous and noble heart of another, but she had 
found man weak and ungrateful, and the world hard and unsym- 
pathizing ; she would not, therefore, marry again, — ah, frail reso- 
lution of woman ! The gentleman just mentioned, was wont to 
visit her evenings, and remain till a late hour. He was as con- 
stant, too, as the vesper-star in the heaven of Hope. He claimed 
the favor of her society, to condole her bereavement, out of the 
intimate regard he bore her late husband ; but a careful eye might 
detect a motive of another kind. He was no unworthy son of 
Apollo. He might have been thirty-five ; but his clear and ruddy 
complexion had only softened into the mellowness of the peach. 
His tapering and voluptuous fingers betokened no rougher part- 
nership than a gentle union with a delicate kid glove. He was 
attired with superlative elegance, but not fastidiously fine. With- 
out possessing marked personal beauty, there was yet about him 
an air of lofty simplicity, and a nonchalance of refined ease that 
was absolutely winning. He seemed familiar upon all topics of 
conversation, and spoke the best Parisian French with extreme 
precision and ease, and with an accent silvery and liquid. How 
could Madame resist so many insinuating amenities ? She was 
evidently losing, by degrees, that entire self-possession which ordi- 
narily marked her queenly bearing. Not that she was struck 
with the noble mien of her visitor, or admired the traits of his 



MARRIED LIFE. 327 



manner, or was charmed with his glow of character ; but alas for 
her woman's heart, her tenderness of nature, and, above all, that 
sympathy which, wrested late from an accustomed object, flowed 
out too readily upon the first new devotee that sought its homage. 
This gentleman was the representative of a class in Europe by no 
means small in number, who are willing to offset their personal 
accomplishments against the money or business capital of a wife, 
to secure their life from the pinchings of pecuniary embarrass- 
ment, — that most uncomfortable of feelings, especially to such 
gentlemen. Thus fairly seated in the matrimonial car, they pass 
over the road of life most delectably to themselves. Leaving at 
the stopping places of the way, their better-half — better, true 
enough — to the graver duty of looking after the luggage of the 
journey, they are wont to spend the protracted intervals in regal- 
ing the sense with other views and scenting the fragrance of other 
fields. Woman, thus M^edded, has the husk of matrimonial en- 
dearments, and the dregs of the wine of life, as penitential fruit 
for the seductions of heart over the guidance of reason. Yet it 
is a lesson hard to learn, — that of prudence against habit and in- 
clination. How strange that the burnt child does not dread the 
fire, — that the sailor will turn again to the perils escaped by a 
hair-breadth, — that the soldier will reenlist for death-devouring 
fields of carnage, — and that woman will plunge again into the 
corroding waters of a same wedlock from which she has but just 
safely emerged, still dripping with the waters of bitter experience. 
Thus, Madame, who would often mournfully recount the unequal 
burden of her late married life, and would freely declare her de- 
termination as the result of her judgment, not to wed again, 
was yet evidently being lured into the very net that so appalled 
her judgment. 

Marriage is, in many respects, quite a different thing in Europe 



328 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

and the United States. In the former, among the middling clas- 
ses, there is one feature particularly noticeable. When a couple 
come together in wedlock, each of the parties retains, often to a 
ruinous extent, his individual habits and tastes. If the bridegroom 
is a sort of idle gentleman, wont to sport his time on the boule- 
vards and in the cafes, and the bride an industrious body inured 
to the profession of gain, a similar course will continue after mar- 
riage. He will spend his evenings and days abroad, pursuing the 
phantom of his own amusement, — while she is attending assidu- 
ously to the domestic affairs, or devotedly pursuing some calling of 
gain. How different is it with us ! A young man, for instance, 
of independent means, marries a girl who may have been a very 
respectable domestic. At once a notable transformation takes 
place. She immediately assumes the dignity and imitates the airs 
of a married lady in the highest circles ; while the husband, some- 
thing of an idler before, now finding his small income insufficient 
to meet the growing expense of his new state, engages industrious- 
ly in some branch of business which he pursues with the perti- 
nacity of a martyr. 

March Ath. In the afternoon, visited one of the communal 
schools, which will not require a particular description, as in or- 
ganization and appearance, it did not differ materially from those 
already described. The salary of the teacher was about one hun- 
dred and twenty dollars per annum, — a remuneration slight 
enough, I thought, for the apparently severe duties of his place. 
For the instruction of youth of both sexes in all departments of 
scholastic knowledge, and every elegant accomplishment, there 
are in Brussels many excellent academical institutions, both 
public and private. One of the teachers very kindly offered to 
conduct me to one of these latter. It was under the direction of 
J. Pietersz, and kept in a part of the buildings of the University. 



COMMUNAL SCHOOLS. 329 



As we passed through a basement room of this edifice, I noticed 
several students seated around a table, upon which was a human 
corpse undergoing dissection. A sight which caused within me 
an involuntary sensation of horror, was completely an indifferent 
object to the jolly-faced disciples who were working away as if 
carving a turkey, cracking their jokes in the most easy good humor 
imaginable. Around another table were pupils enga^-ed in 
sketching from patterns before them. Adjoining this room were 
several small apartments occupied as cabinets, filled with many 
curious and interesting objects. In one was an entire family char- 
red by fire, and in a complete state of preservation. They were 
among the victims of a fire that took place in the city several hun- 
dred years ago. In another apartment were pointed out to me 
several heads of criminals executed by the guillotine but a few 
days since. The sensation produced by viewing them was such 
as I cannot describe. That instrument of death whose bare name 
calls up such dreadful and affecting associations of the old French 
Revolution, was still in use in Belgium for capital punishment. 
Indeed, a gentleman minutely narrated to me the circumstances of 
an execution inflicted by its irrevocable stroke — of which he was 
a personal witness — and the sensations it caused him. The vic- 
tim is placed in an angular position in a perpendicular frame. At 
a signal, not seen, the massive, gleaming steel descends noiselessly 
in a grooved frame, separating the head from the trunk with as 
much facility as a keen knife would the small end of a smooth 
beet. 

Mr. P. received me graciously, and conducted me through all 
the apartments of the school, allowing me time to examine person- 
ally, and ask questions. He wore shppers, and generally spoke 
to me in a whisper, especially in the school-rooms, appearing scru- 
pulous about disturbing the teachers. The school comprises some 
28* 



330 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

four or five hundred pupils, and twenty teachers. There was con- 
siderable difference in the degree of stihness in the several rooms, 
— but the pupils throughout appeared studious and interested; 
while the mode of reciting showed the school to be of superior 
character. I was particularly struck with the extreme degree of 
stillness in one room containing perhaps eighty or a hundred pu- 
pils. The slight ticking of the time-piece was distinctly audible 
all over the room, w^hile the teacher, moving noiselessly around in 
the softest slippers, spoke in a note httle above a whisper. Still 
this part of the school did not strike me as superior to that in 
other rooms. Indeed I was bold enough to imagine it inferior. 
There seemed to be an unnatural restraint which stiffened the 
mental ardor of the pupils. The beaming eye and flushed ex- 
pression of enthusiasm appeared wanting. Mr. P. spoke of the 
school, as if it was regarded as one of the very best in the city; and 
there was in reality a tone of enterprise and spirit pervading it 
that, to the eye of a practical teacher, bespoke unusual excellence. 
Mr. P., the director, receives about six hundred dollars per an- 
num, with room, lights, and fuel. His duties are those only of a 
superintendent, not being required to teach himself He has thus 
left considerable spa:' e time, which he has wisely approi^riated in 
preparing text-bookb' for the primary schools of the city. He had 
the goodness to present me with his series of readers, in which the 
lessons are graduated in a most admirable manner. Some of the 
other teachers are paid about four hundred dollars per annum. 
Their teacher in English, I was told, was from Boston, but I did 
not get the favor of an interview. 

March 6th. Took a turn to view the Botanic Garden, near the 
Observatory, on the outer side of the city wall. It contains an 
extensive and beautiful collection of indigenous and exotic plants, 
and is allowed to be one of the finest public gardens in Europe. 



LAMAETINE'S EFFOETS FOR PEACE. 331 



The public journals were discussing the probabilities of a coali- 
tion by the powers of Europe, to put down republicanism in 
France. It was evident enough that no such thing could take 
place. Public opinion had made a long stride since the time of 
Napoleon the Great. Liberal sentiments had pretty thoroughly 
impregnated the masses. The treachery of the governments, in 
not fulfilling their engagements to the people, after getting their 
aid to crush Napoleon, was still fresh in the public ear. Then each 
government evidently had enough to do to manage the affairs of 
its own kingdom, and prevent the wave of freedom just issued 
from Paris, from rolling its demolishing waters over entire Europe. 
If work they must against the dangerous propagandism, it would 
be secretly, by diplomacy, and after the first wave had receded. 

Lamartine, with almost superhuman energy, was endeavoring 
by the fiat of thought, to elevate and harmonize the French mind 
to the true idea of freedom ; while, at the same time, he was in- 
structing foreign governments as to the course France would pur- 
sue. To the latter, with the power of eloquence, he held out in 
one hand the sword, and in the other, the olive-branch of peace. 
His bulletins, messages, and ordinances, were issued with a pro- 
lificness almost incredible, and were spread immediately on the 
wings of intelligence all over Europe ; while, at the same time, 
he was at brief intervals haranguing the French populace, until 
nature being exhausted, he was obliged to be held upon his feet, 
to give utterance to his peace-inspiring thoughts. Let the grati- 
tude of the world be awarded Lamartine for his noble and power- 
ful efforts for peace at this tremendous crisis. 

March 12th. To-day was the last of six days of Carnival 
which was being celebrated in the city. These religious hohdays 
passed off peaceably enough, although the authorities, in the rev- 
olutionary panic, had taken the utmost precaution to prevent dis- 



332 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

turbance. The term is derived from the Latin carni vale, farewell 
to meat. It occurs during the week before the commencement of 
Lent, and introduces the great fast of the church. It is celebrated 
in all Catholic countries, but more particularly at Rome and V(-;n- 
ice. It is looked forward to with happy anticipations, and is ac- 
companied with much merriment and revelry. On these occasions 
business is considerably suspended, theatres are in full glow, mas- 
querade balls reign in profusion, and a withdrawal by common 
consent of the lines that divide society, takes place. Young men 
and girls in the most ludicrous costume, parade the streets and 
perpetrate jokes, and take innocent liberties with each other and 
with the bystanders, which would never be tolerated at other 
times. But custom is the law of society. On the last day they 
had a course, or as we should say, procession, va which the authori- 
ties and more dignified citizens joined. It was escorted by a band 
of musicians dressed supremely droll, and throwing off the most 
fantastic airs imaginable. The side-walks were lined with people ; 
and parents everywhere took out their children, neatly dressed, 
to witness the amusing spectacle. 

In the forenoon I looked into several churches. They were 
celebrating mass, and the ceremony was imposing and novel. 
The meetings were unusually thronged, generally of the middling 
classes. The personal beauty of the females did not strike me 
with admiration. I could not be mistaken in thinking them infe- 
rior in that respect to the same class in the United States. Al- 
most every woman bore the appearance of physical distortion, 
arising, no doubt, from the undue bodily toil imposed upon the 
masses of females in Europe. It is very clear that a certain 
amount of physical exercise is favorable not only to health but to 
personal beauty ; and it is quite as unequivocal that severe pro- 
tracted labor dwarfs the body and mind, which is perpetuated in 



HERO-WOESHIP. |33 



tlie offspring. Hence, one looks in vain among the lower classes 
in France, Germany, and Belgium, for that classic symmetry of 
features, and rounded, graceful form, so common among us. It is 
not pretended that there are not striking exceptions to the pre- 
vaiUng rule. 

I sought in vain at the bookstores, for a copy of Lamartine's 
History of the Girondists. The work, sufficiently popular before, 
had actually entranced the public mind, since the elevation of the 
noble poet to the head of the French government. The furor for 
this, his latest writings, was so great, that the teeming presses in 
Paris and Brussels could in no way supply the eager appetite of 
the public. We in America are accused of extravagant hero- 
worship, but our enthusiasm in that particular, pales by the side 
of the intensity of European homage, when the public imagination 
there makes to itself an idol. Some are disposed to ridicule this 
trait as a weakness. They would eradicate it from society. They 
will succeed, doubtless, when all that is noble and beautiful dies 
out from the human heart. The truth is, we are all benificently 
constituted to worship goodness and loveliness. Each has his 
heau-ideal, which he instinctively adores. When a public charac- 
ter appears, invested with the traits of our ideal image, our heart 
flows out toward him by a law of our nature. It often happens, 
indeed, that our souls are cheated. The bright jewel of our heart's 
affections is but a base coin, falsely made to glitter before our 
soul's eye, by some master-lapidary. But who would venture, 
after all, to alter the arrangement, on the score of human happi- 
ness and human good 'i We surely get the blissful emotions of 
loving the beautiful, if but in imagination ; and the strengthening 
of our affections, by exercise, for the disa]3poiutment of the decep- 
tion. Who shall say that in this sordid age, when the artificial 
powers of society tend to debase the soul, and strangle all the 



034 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



■purer and nobler affections, whether our Barnums are highway 
poachers, or benefactors to society. 

Shopping is an agreeable business in Brussels, as in Paris. 
You are waited on by young ladies of personal beauty, easy and 
engaging manners, and dressed with elegant neatness. You find 
none of the coarse bantering so common with us, which renders 
shopping an irksome affair, making you feel that you cannot pass 
through it without losing something of your personal dignity and 
manliness. Our republican manners often appear very strange to 
them. I one day made a purchase of a small article ; and as I 
was going from the shop directly to my hotel, I proposed taking it 
along with me, — when the young lady of whom I made the pur- 
chase, insisted that I should not. As I gently persisted in my de- 
termination, she referred the matter to her mother, in an apart- 
ment below, — whereupon Madame came tumbling up stairs into 
the shop, in considerable excitement, and warmly entered her pro- 
testations against so mean an act. To forestall the necessity of 
my doing so, she called a servant, and sent him to my side. Wish- 
ing to see how far a prejudice would carry an honest and kind- 
hearted woman, I firmly stated that my mind was made up, and 
made a movement to go. The good woman first throwing up her 
eyes and hands towards the ceiling, then dropping them on her 
dress in a pathos of despair and mortification, ejaculated, " Mou 
Dieu, Monsieur, a gentleman take his goods with him through the 
streets !" 

The Belgians are hardly behind any people in the variety and 
excellence of their manufactures. The carpet manufactory of 
Messrs. Schumacher & Co. at Tournay, is said to be the most ex- 
tensive and important in Europe. It produces all kinds of what 
are called Brussels carpets, from those which adorn the sumptuous 
palaces of kings, to such as are used for the floor of the cottage. 



MANUFACTURE OF LACE. 335 

Constant employment is given to sixteen hundred workmen, who 
oecupj from eighty to one hundred looms, and produce annually 
about one hundred and twenty thousand metres of carpeting, — 
seven-eighths of which is exported. Manufactures in other de- 
partments are highly prosperous, but the most noted is that of 
lace. ^ The manufacture of this article, though not so prosperous 
as formerly, has yet nothing to fear from foreign competition. 
" Brussels lace," the thread of which is made of the finest flax of 
the country, is superior to every other description made in Bel- 
gium or in foreign countries, — and the demand for it is kept up 
in all parts of the world. Its peculiar qualities are, delicate fine- 
ness and a great elegance and variety of design. The patterns 
are all worked separate, and stitched on. The flax employed 
grows near Hal, and the best at Rebecque. The finest descrip- 
tion costs from three to four thousand francs a pound, and is worth 
its weight in gold. The spinning is performed in darkened rooms, 
with a beam of light admitted only upon the work, through a 
small aperture. This expensive luxury may be seen ornamenting 
the dress of all classes of females. It is made a sine qua non of 
wardrobe ; and those who cannot afford the genuine article, wear 
an imitation more or less perfect. I found no gloves even in 
Paris, equal to those in Brussels, for softness and elegance. 

Belgium was inhabited before the Christian era, by numerous 
tribes of the German race, who lived by hunting, and by rudely cul- 
tivating the earth. They consisted of two classes, chiefs and 
slaves ; and Druidism from Britain was universally predominant. 
In stature and bulk they surpassed the Romans, whom they fiercely 
encountered, and nearly destroyed Cesar's array of the best dis- 
ciphned troops in the world. They subsequently amalgamated 
with the Romans, — and many of Cesar's victories, especially 
that of Pharsalia, were decided by the cavalry and light infantry 



336 CEESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WOELD 



of Belgium. In the third, fourth, and fifth centuries, the charac- 
ter of the Belgians was greatly changed by successive invasions 
of Sahan Franks from the North. In the time of Charlemagne, 
A. D. 800, the physical state of the country had become much im- 
proved. At the end of the ninth century, the Normans commen- 
ced a series of piratical irruptions into Belgium, and continued to 
plunder and devastate the whole country during one hundred and 
fifty years. At the end of the eleventh century, the fanatical 
phrenzy of the crusades induced many of the nobles to part with 
lands, and to grant privileges and political powers, in order to ob- 
tain the means of equipping armies to fight the Saracens. The 
people, conscious of power, gradually extorted from the nobles, 
their rulers, so many concessions, that the provinces formed in 
reality, a democracy, and were only nominally subject to France 
and its nobles. When the rest of Europe was subject to despot- 
ism, and involved in comparative ignorance and barbarism, the 
court of the counts of Flanders was the chosen residence of 
liberty, civilization, and useful knowledge ; and when the ships of 
other nations scarcely ventured beyond the sight of land, those 
of the Flemish merchants traversed the ocean ; and Bruges and 
Antwerp possessed all the commerce and wealth of the north of 
Europe. Under the Burgundian dynasty, the commercial and 
manufacturing towns of the low countries enjoyed remarkable 
prosperity. The famous Order of the Golden Fleece was institu- 
ted in 1430. Bruges and Antwerp were the great marts of the 
commercial world, and contained each about two hundred thousand 
Inhabitants. In the Flemish court of the Duke of Burgundy, 
named Phillip the Good, about 1455, luxurious living was carried 
to a foolish and vicious excess. The wealthy were clad in gorge- 
ous velvets, satins, and jewelry, and their banquets were given 
with almost incredible splendor. Many instances of the immense 



FORMER PROSPERITY OF BELGIUM. 337 

wealth of its merchants are recorded ; among others, it is said 
that when Charles V. once dined with one of the Chief Magis- 
trates of Belgium, his host immediately after dinner threw into- 
the fire a bond for two millions of ducats, which he had received 
as security for a loan to that monarch, saying that he was more 
than repaid by the honor of being permitted to entertain his sove- 
reign. This luxury produced depravity and crime to such an 
extent, that in one year fourteen hundred murders were commit- 
ted in Ghent, in the gambling houses and other resorts of de- 
bauchery. The arts were cultivated with great success. Most of 
the magnificent cathedrals and town-halls in the country were 
built in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. History, poetry, 
and learning, were much cultivated ; and the University of Lo- 
vain was the most celebrated in Europe. In 1477, Belgium 
passed under the dynasty of the empire of Austria. In the reign 
of Charles V, the influence of the Burghers attained its highest 
point. The Scheldt at Antwerp often contained twenty-five hun- 
dred vessels, waiting their turn to come to the wharves ; her gates 
were daily entered by five hundred loaded wagons ; and her ex- 
change was attended, twice a day, by five thousand merchants, 
who expended one hundred and thirty thousand golden crowns in 
a single banquet given to Phillip, the son of Charles V. The 
value of wool annually imported from England and Spain, ex- 
ceeded four million pieces of gold. This amazing prosperity ex- 
perienced a rapid and fatal decline under the malignant tyranny 
and bigotry of PhiUip II, son of Charles V. He estabhshed in 
its most diabolical extravagance the inquisition, and persecuted 
the Protestants to the death. He is known to have boasted, that 
in less than six years he had put to death eighteen thousand men 
and women by the sword, the gibbet, the rack, and the flames. 
Commerce and trade in Belgium now dwindled away, many of 

29 



338 CEESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WOKLD. 

.he rich merchants were reduced to beg for bread, the great cities 
were half deserted, and forest-wolves often devoured the scattered 
inhabitants of desolated villages. In 1706 it changed from the 
Spanish dominion to the Austrian ; and having been several times 
conquered by, and reconquered from, the French, it was incorpo- 
rated in 1795, with the French republic, and divided into depart- 
ments. In the centre of Belgium was fought the great battle of 
"Waterloo, in 1815. In fact, so often has it been the scene on 
which the surrounding nations have settled their quarrels, that it 
has long been styled the cock-pit of Europe. By the Congress 
of Vienna, the provinces of Belgium were annexed to those of 
Holland, to form the kingdom of the Netherlands, which existed 
until the revolution in 1830, when Belgium became an indepen- 
dent nation. 

The Belgians have been successively subjected to the influence 
of so many different governments — French, Austrian, Spanish, 
Dutch — that they consequently possess no distinctive and pecu- 
liar national character. The apathy and persevering industry of 
the Dutch is blended with the vivacity and self-assurance of the 
French. The most obvious peculiarity by which the Belgians are 
distinguished, is their devout observance of rehgious rites and ce- 
remonies. In the rural districts, the clergy are regarded with fa- 
natical veneration, and everywhere exercise, and endeavor to 
maintain, a powerful dominion over the great mass of the work- 
men and peasants. The churches are all open at five or six o'- 
clock every morning, when every good Catholic attends to repeat 
his prayers before entering upon the business or pleasure of the 
day ; and the afternoon and evening of every Sunday are enliv- 
ened by the entertamments of tavern-gardens, grounds for shoot- 
ing with the cross-bow, ball-rooms, theatres, and other public 
places of amusement. 



AMUSEMENTS ggg 



Music and dancing are veiy favorite amusements, especially 
with the middle and lower classes. On every fine summer eve- 
ning, balls are given at the tavern-gardens, which are numerous 
in the outskirts of everj large town. The price of admission 
varies from three or four sous to a franc. Music festivals are 
celebrated every year at Brussels, Ghent, and Antwerp, by ama- 
teur performers, who are emulated by enthusiastic ambition to win 
numerous prizes, which are awarded to the best performers. The 
musical skill exhibited on these occasions, is truly astonishing. 
Music, in fact, is so commonly and carefully learned, even by the 
laboring classes, that the harmony Df the airs which are sung by 
groups of peasants while at work, i often delightful to the mo«<- 
cultivated musical ear 



CHAPTER XXiy. 

DEPARTURE FROM BRUSSELS — CANAL BOATS — BEAUTIFUL AP- 
PEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY — BRUGES — CATHEDRAL OP 
NOTRE DAME — DIETETICS — GROUPS OF MUSICIANS ARRI- 
VAL OF A STEAMER — EMBARK FOR DOVER — DOVER HEIGHTS 
— CUSTOM HOUSE — SMUGGLING — DOVER CASTLE — LEAVE 
FOR LONDON. 

If arch 13th. I was up early, preparing for my departure. 
The bill of Madame was moderate, and her kindness in various 
ways had won upon me. My regret, therefore, at bidding her 
farewell, was heightened by friendship's power. I could not but 
feel a sadness, too, at leaving a city so filled with ennobling objects 
of contemplation. If travelling is a sad pleasure, thus separating 
one's self, and perhaps forever, from a place endeared to the heart 
by glowing associations, is not the least sombre feature in the mov- 
ing panorama. The raw air without, and the overcast sky, more- 
over, lent additional gloom. They seemed in sympathy with the 
rising emotions. 

I had denied myself the interest of visiting the memorable bat- 
tle ground of Waterloo, having seen the tragic spot in a tour 
through Belgium, several years before. Yet it was not so easy 
for me to forego visiting Antwerp, as I had planned to do, on leav- 
ing Paris, although I had already tarried there several weeks. 
The venerable city is too full of art, and too rich in historical as- 
sociations, for one visit to satisfy. Still, inclination had to yield 



CANALS IN BELGIUM. 341 



to circumstances, and I was soon speeding mj way on the route 
to England, by the way of Ostend. On leaving the city, a fine 
view was soon presented of the magnificent Palace of Laekin, the 
country residence of his majesty, Leopold ; while behind us stood 
out in clear relief, against a back-ground of impervious sky, the 
numerous spires and turrets of the miniature-Paris. The city 
thus appears huddled upon a rounded plateau of earth, slightly 
elevated, and presents an agreeable contrast to the verdure of the 
level country surrounding it. 

All the cars of our train were well filled, — the result of low 
fares, doubtless. The motion was easy and equable, and we ex- 
perienced few annoying delays. The railway lines in Belgium 
being under the direction of the government, greater precision is 
thus secured to them. 

The third-class cars of our train were open at the sides, and 
provided with long, plain benches, for seats. These were com- 
pletely thronged with coarsely-dressed, but orderly and healthful- 
looking people, some of them bearing along with them even im- 
plements of husbandry, or mechanical tools. 

The flatness of the country in Belgium is favorable, of course, 
to the construction of canals; hence the country is considerably 
intersected by them, forming in the aggregate a distance equal to 
about two hundred miles. Such as we passed appeared wider and 
less crooked than I had been accustomed to see, and were, of 
course, nearly destitute of locks. As we passed along, I was 
struck with several peculiarities of the canal-boats. They were 
larger than ours, and were rigged to sail, when the wind would 
allow of it. For this purpose they were supplied, like a sloop, 
with a single mast, which, by means of a hinge, could be lowered 
back upon the deck, to enable the boat to pass under bridges. 
Whenever they came to a reach, that would not allow of sailing, 



342 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



the boatmen jumped out upon tlie bank, and with a tow-line tugged 
their ponderous craft along, till a turn in the canal enabled them 
to make use again of their sail. Yet I am not certain that tliis is 
the mode of canalling throughout Belgium. In proportion as we left 
Brussels in the distance, we lost hearing the pure French spoken, — 
the language in the villages through which we passed becoming 
either Flemish, a sort of mongrel dialect, or the flat, broad Dutch. 
Occasionally, however, the ear was fuddled with a mixture com- 
pounded of Dutch, Flemish, and a little German and French. 
The dress, too, of the common people, partook of the melange^ 
while the more graceful manners of the French character en- 
grafted upon the sturdy basis of the Dutch, was a subject of curi- 
ous interest. The flatness of the country, extending like a con- 
tinued prairie, enables the cities and villages to be seen at a great 
distance. They are picturesquely grouped upon some site slightly 
elevated, and appear to the eye of imagination, life-teeming oases 
amid a desert of habitations. Each village, however humble, has 
its church, upon the interior of which is lavished the riches of the 
district, and whose spire shoots up to a dizzy height. The inter- 
minable flatness of the surface, its lawn-like verdure, the unique 
form and variegated color of the edifices, the lofty needle spires 
of the churches, the somewhat bulky character of the people, with 
their fanciful costume, and irregular language, all render the pic- 
ture such as is nowhere else to be met with, and one of refreshing 
interest to the cursory traveller. 

Belgium is full of historical associations of vivid interest. There 
is not a village, however humble, but has hallowed recollections 
enough to fill a chapter by itself. It were, indeed, interesting to 
pause a moment and call up, from the dim shades of the past, 
heroic acts of a chivalrous age, — but this is a time of railroads 
and steam-boats, and we must hasten on our journey. Let my 



BRUGES. 343 



reader, however, tany with rae a httle in Bruges, and take a 
brief glance at a few of the noted features of what was once one of 
the most considerable cities of Belgium. Its name is derived from 
the Flemish word Brugge, — which means bridges, — from the cir- 
cumstance of its having fifty-four bridges across the numerous 
canals by which the streets are intersected. The city has a cir- 
cumference of nearly four and a half miles, and is entered by six 
gates. 

Bruges has six large squares ; and many large, and noble ancient 
mansions and spacious public edifices present their pointed gables 
to the streets, and afford interesting specimens of the ornamental 
Gothic architecture of the middle ages. The spectacle of these 
edifices induces the contemplative mind to revert to the grandeur 
and opulence of the city in the days of chivalry, when its gorge- 
ous halls and courts were scenes of regal pomp and pageantry, — 
and impress him with a feeling of sadness in contrasting its ancient 
prosperity with its present comparative desolation. Among the 
most remarkable edifices is the cathedral of Notre Dame, the 
tower of which is so lofty that, when the atmosphere is paiticu- 
larly clear, it is visible from the mouth of the Thames. The 
interior contains among other interesting objects, a marble statue 
of the Virgin and Child, attributed to IVIichael Angelo, and for 
which Horace Walpole, it is said, offered thirty thousand florins. 
In the great square is a lofty Gothic tower, or belfry, the most 
beautiful in Europe, and its chimes, or carillons, are esteemed the 
most complete and harmonious in the Netherlands. They are 
played upon every quarter of an hour. On particular days a paid 
professor of music performs. Watchmen are constantly jDosted at 
the top of this tower, to make alarm signals of fire by ringing a 
loud bell, and exhibiting in the day a flag, and in the night a lan- 
tern towards the point whither the engines are required U\ haoion. 



344 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



which is further indicated by a speaking-trumpet. The Jerusalem 
Church is 2k facsimile of the Holj Temple. 

Bruges, in common with all towns of West Flanders, is destitute 
of spring-water, so that the inhabitants are obliged, as were their 
ancestors in the time of Pliny, to have recourse for supplies from 
the clouds. For this purpose, every house is provided with a cis- 
tern for collecting rain from its roof; and that which gathers in 
the ditches of the ramparts is conveyed, by means of hydraulic 
machinery, to public fountains, or tanks, whence it is distributed in 
pipes throughout the city. 

Speaking of its former grandeur, — the records of luxurious 
banquets and apparel at that period are almost incredible. Not 
only the dresses of men and women, but the housings of their 
horses were of velvet, satin and gold, profusely spangled with 
briUiant jewels, — an extravagance which Charles Y, in the fol- 
lowing century, was obliged to suppress by enacting sumptuary 
laws. It is said when the queen of Phillip the Bel, of France, 
visited this city in 1300, she exclaimed with astonishment, " I see 
hundreds who have more the appearance of queens than myself." 

A little incident on reaching Ostend, illustrates the efficiency 
of the Belgian police ; and the same trait would hold, I am per- 
suaded, in nearly all European countries. My hotel being within 
a few rods of the depot, I did not take a carriage, but was walk- 
ing leisurely forward with valise in hand, when a man approached 
and clamorously solicited to bear my baggage. I mildly thanked 
him for his offers, but observed that his services were not desired. 
Mistaking my easy manner for amiable weakness, doubtless, he 
laid hold of my valise, at the same time walking along with me, 
and all the while insisting that I should let go. A police officer 
observing him, stepped up, collared my new acquaintance, and, in 
spite of his remonstrances and petitions, hurried him off to the 



BEER DRINKING. 345 



vvatch-liouse. The traveller in Europe is struck with a comfort- 
able feeling of security in noticing all around the external eviden- 
ces of order and quietness, and the deference and respect shown 
strangers, even by the officers of government ; and did he not take 
a mental glance behind the curtain, and see the immense cost by 
which this security is kept up, and reflect upon the influence of 
arbitrary government upon the national mind, he would be half 
in danger of becoming enamored of Royal Institutions. And 
when a foreigner, long accustomed to this strictly-ruled state of 
things, comes to our shores, and is exposed to the recklessness of 
abused freedom, it is no wonder that he cries out at first against 
Free institutions, and declares a Republican Government a weak 
thing, and insufficient to protect the dear interests of society. 

I spent the evening agreeably in a very respectable estaminet, 
observing the manners of the citizens. It M^as liberally patron- 
ized, and the guests, who had the appearance of regular custom- 
ers, remained in general till a late hour. In dress and manners 
they were of the well-to-do class, advanced in years, and pursy. 
They hastened off the time in quiet conversation, smoking pipes, 
and drinking ale or strong beer ; and the quantity of this beve- 
rage each disposed of, perfectly amazed me, — so great, that I 
dare not say, for fear of not being credited. I could not have 
believed, without the evidence of my own eyes, that even their 
bulky trunks could have taken up, and held in solution — allowiDg 
them thoroughly of the nature of sponge — such vast quantities 
of the turpid liquid. But the landlady informed me the next 
morning, when I wonderingly recounted to her the number of 
glasses I had observed a single person to drink, that she could re-* 
late to me even larger stories of the same kind. Well, in the face 
of such facts, what, thought I, becomes of dietetic theories ! The 
Frenchman, for instance, lives in a great measure upon highly 



34.6 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



concentrated coffee : the Hollander daily soaks his bulky person 
in ale ; the Englishman gorges his capacious stomach with roast 
beef; while other races live principally upon vegetables and fruit; 
and yet all these varieties of people span about the same length 
of life. Habits so different seem to effect little more than differ- 
ences of personal appearance and temperament ; but they show, at 
least, the wonderful power of adaptation belonging to the human 
system ! We were regaled several times during the evening, with 
the musical efforts of humble troops of artists, who, after having 
executed a few popular airs, sent around the reception-board 
among the guests for sous. At one time it was a little brother and 
sister who constituted the band ; at another, a family group, includ- 
ing the father and mother ; then again, it was a more imposing 
array of talent, in the form of a chosen number of artists. But 
they were always civil, modest, and respectful. Further, their 
soft and stilly manners, as they glided noiselessly into the room, 
unostentatiously struck up their sweet airs, just at the time to 
cause no interruption to any one, and then quietly retired, betok- 
ened the influence of their musical strains upon their own charac- 
ter. It was the intuitive politeness which music ever forms in 
the human soul. Their humble performances formed for me an 
agreeable variety to the evening's occupation ; and had I not been 
on the latter end of my route, should doubtless have given them 
quite liberally. To be frank, I must confess to a more than com- 
mon sympathy with these strolling empirics. So grovelhng are 
made the pursuits of life, that I have ever felt thankful at heart 
to whomsoever was drawing up even but drops from the ocean 
fountain of concealed delight, to gladden the weary spirit. If 
idlers we must have, let them be of no worse occupation. It must 
be something of a poetic soul to find congeniality in the calling. 
And I must say that I have listened to strains from some of these 



FORTIFICATIOKS OF OSTEND. 347 

unpretending performers, which to mj untutored ear, were touch- 
ing and delicious. This, too, is the medium through which some 
of the brightest genius has found its way to the soul of the world, 
and gained the enviable fortune of thrilUug it with emotions of 
intense pleasure. 

March lAth. I had time in the morning for a stroll about the 
town. It has a quaint and dilapidated air. Few travellers speak 
of it in terms of praise, still it is regularly and neatly built, and 
presents a hvely appearance, the houses being painted of different 
colors. An interesting feature is the strong fortificatians, consist- 
ing of redoubtable ramparts, a broad ditch, and a citadel. Indeed 
these time-grizzly champions possess an historical interest. Dur- 
ing the ever-memorable struggle of the Dutch to emancipate 
themselves from the blind and brutal despotism of Old Spain, this 
little town sustained one of the most celebrated sieges of which 
history has preserved any account. It continued from the fourth 
of July, 1601, to the twenty-eighth of September, 1604, when the 
garrison capitulated on honorable terms, to the ablest of the Span- 
ish leaders, the famous Marquis of Spinola. This siege is sup- 
posed to have cost the contending parties the lives of nearly one 
hundred thousand men. Situated directly upon the ISForth Sea, it 
is a favorite watering-place of the Belgians, and is sometimes re- 
sorted to by the royal family. This, with the passengers daily 
passing through here on the new line, gives to the place an ani- 
mating air. 

At 10 A. M., I was standing upon the breakwater, watching the 
approach from the offing of a steamer from Dover. She presently 
glided in between the piers, a thing of life indeed. The Enghsh 
passengers on board, encumbered as usual with luggage, made 
strong requisitions upon the conveyance-resources of the place. 
Beasts of burden, vehicles of every description, even shoulders of 



348 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

men and women, piled high, presented a moving chattel-house. 
The ladies of the company struck me pleasingly. Their elegant 
figure, rich and flowing dress, and dignified manner, placed them 
in happy contrast with the Belgian women. Then my native 
language in their mouth, so long almost a stranger to my ear ! It 
came like sweetest music to my soul. The very tones awoke emo- 
tions impossible to describe. 

At 11 A.M., I was standing upon the deck of another of these 
graceful Httle steamers, darting out from the capacious harbor, 
upon the angry bosom of the stormy North Sea. The glorious 
Old Continent, big with the riches of human culture and experi- 
ence, was receding in the mellowing distance. The last page had 
been turned, and the book closed, of another volume of life. But 
how precious its gleaming ! What a treasure of dehght will it 
not furnish of future reminiscences. 

On we sped at the rate of twelve or fourteen miles an hour. 
Our steamer, a fair sample of those on the line, was small, but of 
elegant model. The passages across the bleak Strait are often 
necessarily stormy, but not a single accident had yet happened to 
the line, — owing, in part, to the extreme precaution of the con- 
ductors of the boats. These are well manned, and officered by a 
naval gentleman ; and in all the arrangements, nothing is left to 
chance. There were some fifteen of us in number on board, a 
mere handful compared with the thronging crowds pluming the 
decks of the gay floating palaces on our Western waters. About 
two-thirds of this number occupied the stern cabin, — a neat, cozy 
apartment, snugly under deck ; while the remainder waived the 
honor of being in the best style, from the claims of economy, and 
made their quarters in the forecastle. Presently a brisk breeze 
sprang up from the south-west, raising up a short sea, and cresting 
their breezy ridges. The sky remained clear, but blue, and the 



CEOSSING THE CHANNEL. 349 



air raw and piercing. These features of the scene, — the severe 
aspect of the heavens, the chilly touch of the air, and the shiver- 
ing look of the wet expanse, were enough to make me remember 
the old North Sea with icj feelings. Our modest little boat, how- 
ever, held on steadily her way, nodding over the yeasty seas with 
duck-like security. Several of our passengers in due time com- 
menced casting their reckoning with old Neptune, who seemed in- 
exorable in his exactions. Such of us as had better sea-legs, well 
wrapped in clothing, paced as best we could the deck, and, per- 
chance, strove to draw each other out in conversation. Several of 
the passengers were English, but they were able to converse in 
French with fluency ; and one of them informed me that the edu- 
cated classes in England all learn that language as a common and 
useful branch of education. We had on board one of the Dover 
pilots, on his return from having taken a foreign ship through the 
Straits to Hamburg. This business employs a considerable class. 
American ships, also, in passmg through the treacherous sea, not 
unfrequently take pilots. The navigation of the sea is justly re- 
garded as dangerous, there being numerous undisclosed sand-bars, 
not indicated by beacons. Of these merciless strands, justly 
enough dreaded by mariners, the Goodwin Sands are the most 
noted. Our pilot passenger was a genial, entertaining old fellow. 
He possessed a ready fund of general information, and was by no 
means unwilling to give us a peep into his amply garnered store- 
house. He was indeed none of your oyster-class of travellers. 
In his ambulations, the government of his own country, her insti- 
tutions and society, came in for a place in his discursive survey. 
He acknowledged, truthfully enough, that the British Executive 
was an adroit power. It managed the vast empire with consum- 
mate success, ever keeping its unwearied eye intent on the main 
chance. National greatness was its triumphant goal, and univer 

30 



350 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



sal dominion the potent spell of its genius. It had little deep, 
genuine sympathy with the toiling, panting masses ; but its thor- 
ough feeling of self-respect, its national pride, its glowing desire 
of progress, forced it to a decent regard for the urgent rights of 
the laboring poor. As for the vigilant claims of the middling 
classes, this lynx-eyed government had full employment for its 
astute powers ; but it managed, nevertheless, to keep the advanc- 
ing, exacting element within control: now yielding, and again 
pushing forward, ever seizing an opportunity, just like some skil- 
ful champion in complete contest with a powerful antagonist. Our 
talkative companion let out upon the sins of the English Govern- 
ment with a freedom of speech that would hardly have been par- 
donable in the citizen of a Republic. Still, the sincere-souled old 
tar carried below a loyal heart, — what Englishman does not ? 
According to him, England was, of course, infinitely the greatest 
country m the world ; her institutions the most perfect, and her 
people the guiding stars in the heavens of intellectual and moral 
sj)lendor. 

The low, flat, French coast had scarcely merged from view be- 
low the horizon, when the bold cliffs of Dover greeted our vision. 
The distance across from Ostend to Dover is sixty miles, but from 
Dover to the nearest point on the French coast, it is no more than 
twenty-one miles. Truly but a narrow space separates these two 
powerful, enlightened nations ; yet in feeling, manner, and taste, 
they inhabit different shores of an impassible gulf. At first view, 
it would seem easy for a well-appointed French expedition to 
seize a favorable opportunity, cross the narrow strait, make a sud- 
den and unexpected descent upon the island, and make a con- 
quest of it. We know that the Normans did this in an earlier 
age. We are told that a similar project occupied, for a long time, 
the gigantic intellect of Napoleon. That the English, even to 



DOVER. 351 



this day, have apprehensions on that score, there can be no doubt. 
As a fact in evidence of this, let me adduce, that in the Fall of 
1847, a letter written by the late Duke of Wellington to a friend, 
in which he candidly expresses the opinion, that the uncommon 
activity which happened then to be going on in the French naval 
yards, had, for spring of movement, a contemplated invasion of 
England. This letter somehow found its way into the public 
prints, and its contents created a sensation in England, such as 
had not been witnessed for many a year. To have seen the stir 
it made, one might have supposed that every Englishman fancied 
a French rapier about to be thrust into his coporeal man. One 
dignified London editor declared, that " no doubt there was not a 
Frenchman in the kingdom that would not hail, with a yell of 
savage delight, the opportunity to gloat his incarnate enmity in 
the effusion of English blood." 

As we neared the English coast, the wind moderated, the sea 
became smooth, and a thin smoky haze hung over the verge of the 
land, just to place it in fine relief. The soil on this part of the 
coast is of chalky formation ; the land is high, and the coast 
abrupt, giving a bold and picturesque view to the whole. A little 
to the north of the town, on the most elevated part, frowns the 
renowned castle of Dover. The entire scene was fine on entering 
the harbor. The placid and lovely bosom of the sea, the quiet 
and arrowy movement of our boat cutting the blue surface, the 
unique and imposing view of the land before us, the old castle up 
above us at the right, the thronging of citizens on the quay to 
greet our arrival, the thrilling historical associations of the place, 
all greatly heightened in my own bosom by the spell-bound tie of 
home, with which the soil of England is linked, gave elevation 
and lustre to the emotions of the moment. The harbor, which 
is within the town, is quite unworthy the ancient reputation of the 



352 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



port. It is small, and the entrance to it being narrow, between 
two piers, great caution is required in entering in rough weather. 
It is only a tide harbor, and a few years ago the bar at its en- 
trance had accumulated so much, that it was feared that it would 
be entirely choked up ; but great improvements have since been 
effected. I was not favorably impressed with the dexterity of our 
captain in getting our boat into the harbor. He made clumsy 
work of it, though the boat was small, entirely manageable, the 
water smooth, and all other apparent circumstances favorable. 
The awkward delay was the more noticeable, as in the grave and 
explicit announcements of the company the captain was set forth 
as a first-class naval officer, of high nautical education and expe- 
rience. I thought any of our green yankee captains would have 
done infinitely better. On arrival, the luggage of all the pas- 
sengers was immediately taken charge of by commissioners ap- 
pointed by the government, and conveyed by them to the custom 
house depot, there to undergo a search. The inspection over, the 
luggage is conveyed by the same authorities to any place in port 
you may designate. For this interfering care you are required to 
pay quite freely. For three small pieces I was taxed thirty-seven 
and a half cents. If anything contraband is discovered, it is forth- 
with confiscated, part to the government, and part to the officers 
who make the discovery, and the owner thereof is heavily fined 
or imprisoned. One of our party was so unlucky as to fall into 
the limhoes of these hawk-eyed limbs of the law. He was a Ger- 
man, from Frankfort. His dress, manner, and intelligence be- 
spoke him a gentleman. No ordinary observer could have thought 
him capable of so mean a thing, as an attempt at smuggling ; but 
tlie trained vision of the officers of the government knows where 
to look for the rogues. While the rest of us were allowed to pass 
freely ashore, our German companion was at once singled out as 



SMUGGLING. 353 



a suspicious person. He was superbly dressed, wearino- over sev- 
eral other garments a rich cloak, deeply trimmed with velvet and 
fir. As he stepped on the quay, an officer walked up to him, and 
found under either arm, hidden by his cloak, several thousand of 
the nicest cigars. On opening his trunks at the custom-house, 
they found more of the same precious article. The unfortunate 
man could say nothing for himself, and looked chop-fallen to the 
last degree. We called him a foolish fellow, and were disposed to 
show him pity. But the officers took a different view of the case. 
They explained his bold, and apparently unconscious manner, as a 
shrewd trick of the experienced smuggler. His penalty was a 
heavy one ; but the officers, with a praiseworthy good-will, suc- 
ceeded in making it comparatively light. Let me say, in justice 
to these gentlemen, that they appeared to take no pleasure in dis- 
covering contraband articles, nor to enforce the law in its rigor, 
when in their power to do so. They certainly appeared difierent 
from the character often ascribed to the class of custom-house of- 
ficers. In alluding jocosely to the possibility of finding something 
among my own baggage of a contraband nature, one of them by 
my side promptly answered, " We do not expect to. We never 
detect the American traveller in such low tricks. They are en- 
tirely too honorable and noble minded for that." 

I felt grateful for the compliment ; especially, as I had no doubt 
of his sincerity. He told me that such attempts at smuggling 
were by no means rare, and the actual amount of confiscated 
goods in the course of the year was not inconsiderable, — and this, 
too, in the face of the law in all its rigor. Persons were often de- 
tected of whom better things would be expected; and more strange 
still, as the advantage in prospect bore no proportion to the risk. 
They were disposed to be accommodating to such as had with 
them only purchased-articles of wardrobe in reasonable quantities 

30* 



354 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

for themselves, and even for friends, — sucli as gloves, silk dresses, 
velvet mantillas, etc. Dover is a likely place to meet with petty 
smuggling, by travellers, being one of the p'lnncipal places of first- 
landing from the Continent. Brussels lace is the more frequent 
article that seeks to secrete its way, and this, because of its expen 
siveness and the ease with which it can be hidden from view. 

A stranger is required to call at the Alien Office, and take a 
certijicate of arrival, for which the charge is nothing. In the delay 
of removing my luggage, I stepped into a small hotel for a lunch. 
Here I felt again, most delightfully, the idea of home, to which I 
had -been a stranger for several months. The room I ate in was 
a kind of a carpeted parlor, with a glowing coal-fire in the hearth, 
and every thing about the apartment gleaming with neatness, not 
excepting the youthful landlady, the brightest of all — neat, rosy, 
and gladsome, — a most enviable looking wife, as well as dame. 
And here let me say, I was struck with the superior good looks of 
the ladies whom I accidentally passed in the streets of Dover. 

On account of our protracted passage across the strait, we were 
too late for the express-train, which traverses the distance of eighty- 
six miles in two hours. This I sorely regretted, but it afforded 
me time to look around upon the famous Dover Castle. It is on 
an eminence bounding the south-east side of the valley, and com- 
prises an immense collection of ancient and modern works, occupy- 
ing an area of about thirty acres. It is approached by a bold 
ascent, but is itself commanded by the higher ground on the west 
and south-west. There are remains of ramparts, and of a temple, 
bath, and Pharos, supposed to be of Roman construction. Pre- 
viously to the last French war, the works were much dilapidated, 
but they were then repaired and greatly augmented. There are 
upper and lower courts, surrounded (except towards the sea), by 
curtains and large, dry ditches. In the centre of the former is a 



FEOM DOVER TO LONDON. 355 

spacious keep, built bj Henr j III, and now forming a bomb-proof 
magazine. Tiie curtain of the lower court is flanked, at irregular 
intervals, by ten towers of various construction ; the oldest, built 
bj Earl Goodwin ; the others, built at different times during the 
Norman dynasty ; with these, subterraneous passages communicate 
from the ditch. There are, also, four or five ancient wells, ex- 
cavated to the depth of three hundred and seventy feet. The 
modern works consist of batteries, with heavy artillery casements, 
covered ways, a large vault, etc., — excavated in the chalk, — bar- 
racks, etc., capable of lodging two thousand troops. The late 
Duke of Welhngton was Constable of the Castle. 

Dover comprises what is termed the " old," and " new town." 
The latter Is built chiefly for the reception of strangers, large 
numbers of whom throng the place during the bathing season. It 
has a neat and interesting appearance. The old part of the town, 
on the contrary, is irregular, and the streets narrow and ill-kept ; 
but the whole is obviously improving, and building-lots are said to 
be in great request. You are besieged here as elsewhere, all 
over the world, by porters and idlers, for the favor of relieving 
you of luggage. The town is made the residence of several 
wealthy gentlemen. 

At a quarter past six in the afternoon, we left for London in the 
slow train, which takes four hours to make the passage. In a mo- 
ment after leaving, we entered the long tunnel which leads under 
the bold bluff upon the verge of the coast, termed Shakspeare's 
Cliff. "We then glided, for some time, along upon the very brink 
of the precipitous coast. The quiet North Channel was away 
down below us, and vessels on its tranquil bosom appeared as the 
tiny crafts which the boy is wont to sport with in the narrow 
streams of his home. Our company was of very respectable ap 
pearance, but sedate in their manners, — very unlike a French 



356 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

assembly. I was nearly deprived of the pleasing views of 
English rural scenery, from the lateness of our passage ; but we 
passed, before being quite enveloped in the gray folds of eve- 
ning, several charming villas, delightfully embowered in trees and 
shrubbery. We were at length set down in London, at half-past 
ten in the evening, near the south-end of London Bridge. I was 
directed to a kind of restaurant, where, besides meals at all hours, 
they furnished transient people lodgings. Here I was conducted 
to a neat and comfortable parlor, in the second-story, in which I 
met an elderly lady, well-dressed, and of highly intelligent bear- 
ing. Immediately, and without reserve, she entered into free and 
intelligent conversation with me ; and when she learned that I was 
in Paris in the first of the revolution, and was personally a witness 
of some of its most thrilling scenes, her curiosity and interest were 
almost without bounds. The most trivial detail of the grand event 
was seized upon by her ardent nature as if it were of real impor- 
tance. We conversed till a late hour upon various subjects; 
yet, I could not learn, without subjecting myself to the imputation 
of rudeness, anything of her personal history, — not even of what 
country she was ; — but by this trait alone, I should have guessed 
her to be Enojlish. 



CHAPTEE XXV. 

LONDON — BEGGARS — TOWER OF LONDON — DUNGEON — CROWN- 
JEWELS — ST. Paul's — sir Christopher wren — the Thames 

TUNNEL RIVER STEAMERS TRAFALGAR SQUARE NELSON 

MONUMENT BRITISH MUSEUM — WEST-END — BUCKINGHAM 

PALACE WESTMINSTER ABBEY PARKS. 

March 15th. Eeallj in London — the big, beating heart of the 
British empire, and the emporium of the civilized world ! I took 
an early morning stroll for first impressions. The first idea with 
which I was forcibly struck, was the solid, massive character 
which pervaded every thing. The huge bridges across the Thames, 
the lofty public and private edifices, — even the vehicles which 
traverse the streets, have an air of strength and durability entirely 
national. 

Almost the first person I met in London was a beggar. I had 
but just taken the last step in crossing London Bridge, when 
I was almost struck aghast at the appearance before me of a 
human form, emaciated to the last degree, and his whole frame 
trembling as if unable to stand erect. He seemed the dire vestige 
of life ! He held up with his hand a thin piece of board upon which 
was written, in chalk letters, '•'' I am starving for want of bread !" 
A gentleman before me handed him, in passing, a penny, which 
the starving man slipped into his pocket with an adroitness, that 
struck me as not natural. I handed him another, which was dis- 



358 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



posed of in a similar manner. I now began to comprehend that 
he must be one of the numerous professional beggars with which 
the city is sorely infested. And he was certainly a most consum- 
mate counterfeit. 

Beggary is a marked feature in London scenery. Its sickening 
sight is everywhere before the eye of the stranger, and some of 
its details are so revolting, as to curdle the life-blood of one's nature. 
Mere skeletons of human beings may be seen, with barely enough 
clothing to hide their shrivelled forms, and that so tattered and filthy 
as to outrage common decency ; some maimed, others deformed, or 
disfigured, sitting upon the cold pavement, reclining upon the steps 
of doors, and even crawling upon the pavement, uttering moans, 
and beseeching you to give something for their famishing nature ; 
— women without shoes, or covering for the head, and with rags, 
for the rest of the body, barely enough for decency, — with half- 
naked children in their arms, out in the muddy streets, or lying in 
some corner with the rain pattering upon their emaciated faces. 

Such is a meagre outline of a picture that is ever before the 
stranger, at every turn, and at all times of the day and night, in 
the opulent and benevolent city of London ! The features of the 
picture receive a more appalling hue, when contrasted with the 
comfortable luxuriousness and splendor pervading the West End 
of the city, — the residence of the aristocracy. In view of the 
contrast, the mind is staggered in contemplating the marvellous 
inequalities of human condition, and one is almost led to murmur 
at the Divine economy which permits, that while one mortal can 
roll in luxury, with an utter inability to spend his princely income, 
another human being of the same great family of man, must live 
and suffer, di^agging slowly out a miserable existence, deprived of 
the small means necessary even to protect his body from the 
pinching of hunger and the piercing of cold. 



BEGGARS IN LONDON. 359 



The most obdurate heart is at first melted with pitj, in witnes- 
sing such scenes. The sympathies of his whole nature are 
aroused ; and he gives for the first few days freely. He soon, 
however, comes to bethink himself, and will reason something in 
this wise : " Suppose I continue to give even in the smallest sums, 
and only to such as appear the most urgent cases, I should soon 
empty my own purse, — and had I the wealth of Crcesus, it would 
hardly suffice. And then, should I be certain of giving with pru- 
dence "^ Are not those appearing the more needy cases, often mere 
counterfeits, while the real cases of distress are hidden from view ?" 
After appeasing the clamorings of his conscience by such reason- 
ings, he resolves to give no more, — and ever afterwards holds 
tight his purse-strings, unless indeed some dreadful case thrills 
every fibre of his sympathetic being, and renders it quite impos- 
sible to hold back. 

It cannot be denied that beggary is a broad, festering sore on 
the great London body, unsightly to the eye, and poisonous to its 
vitality. Of the actual amount of beggary, I am not in possession 
of accurate statistics, but it must be very great. It is distinguished 
into pauperism and mendicity ; the former comprising the truly 
needy, and the latter, such as pursue it as a regular trade, or pro- 
fessional beggars. These latter comprise by far the more numerous 
class, and English authorities give it as nine to one, — that is, out 
of every ten beggars, nine are mendicants, or professional beggars, 
that pursue the calling as a regular branch of business. I am 
inclined to think, however, that the statement is exaggerated, un» 
less it be meant to include only the street beggars ; for many of 
the real cases of indigence are hidden from view. The mendi- 
cants pursue their way of life with notorious audacity, lliey 
have a saying among them, that " it is a hard street that will not 
yield one penny, and he is a lazy beggar who will not traverse 



360 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

sixty streets a day." This would make some one hundred and fif- 
teen cents per day. 

The Mendicant Society have labored usefully in exposing the 
impositions of mendicants ; but neither their agents nor the new 
police have been able to suppress them. This class are gross im- 
postors, and convicted vagrants ; and of these, the very worst are 
the blind and cripples. Their profligacy, and the inveteracy of 
their idle and dishonest habits, almost constitute them so many 
criminals. The metropolitan police, in 1837, apprehended four 
thousand three hundred mendicants. The private lodgings of this 
class are crowded, unwholesome, and literally sinks of iniquity. 

Still, admitting that much of the beggary seen in London is 
mendicity, there is yet enough of real suffering. Cases come to 
light now and then, appalling enough to make the very heart 
bleed with commiseration. A lady informed me, that a woman 
of her acquaintance, who had lost her husband some time before, 
found herself without means of support, and reduced to the ex- 
tremity of sewing, to support herself and family. Her health, 
never strong, was now every day becoming more fragile in conse- 
quence of undue application. She had been forced to part with 
every article of furniture, and had even disposed of her bible and 
wedding ring, and was then wasting toward an untimely grave. 
The Poor House was indeed before her, and so was the grave ; and 
she preferred the latter to the former. Reared as the daughter 
of a wealthy gentleman, her pride rebelled at such humbling, 
and her whole nature shrunk at the idea of the degradations of 
the Poor House. 

Another dreadful case, sickening even to the contemplation, is 
before my mind. The two only children of a cobler died in his 
house. Too poor himself to incur the expense of their decent 
sepulture, he applied to the proper authorities for aid from the 



CASES OF EXTREME MISERY. 361 



city. This was denied liim on the ground of his possessing arti- 
cles of personal property of more value than to entitle him to relief 
from the government. The few articles of last necessity actu- 
ally in his possession, being of a nature not transferable for cash, 
he applied for permission to bury the decomposing bodies in the 
narrow garden adjoining his shop. But this, of course, was denied 
him. The offensive corpses remained in this condition in his room, 
until some gentleman accidentally passing, was so struck by the 
disagreeable stench, as to be led to enter, to learn whence it pro- 
ceeded. His astonishment may be imagined, on finding two bodies 
in the most loathsome condition, and the little room filled with 
virulent miasma. To his demand why they had not been inter- 
red, the half-deranged father replied, "My good sir, I would have 
rejoiced to bury them in a hole like dogs, had I been permitted to 
do so." It is needless to add, that the case was then promptly 
cared for. I learned this from persons who were eye-witnesses 
of the scene. It was also published in one of the London jour- 
nals, the Times, I think. This is doubtless an extreme case ; but 
it will not be denied, there are enough others coming to light every 
day, which, if not so strange as this, are yet dreadful to think of. 
Indeed, I was assured by Enghsh gentlemen themselves, of high 
respectability, that no human tongue could adequately describe the 
heart-appalling miseries of the poor of London. 

Much of this misery may doubtless be attributed more to de- 
moraKzation than mere misfortune. Still, there must ever be 
much of the latter. Where condition of life is so strictly ruled, 
and struggle for pecuniary means so intense as in London, there 
is left ihe merest chance to regain a lost foothold upon the ladder 
of panting existence. Where society is so pressed into time-worn 
ruts, the vicissitudes of life fall with fatal effect. Nor is there 
any relief from dire extremity by flying into the country. There, 

31 



362 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

every foot of land is appropriated, with no opportunity for a sec- 
ond occupant. No alternative is left, then, to the unfortunate, but 
to pine away in dejection, or to emigrate to the New World; 
but the greater part have not even the means for this. 

It is easier to depict the mammoth evil, than to devise a remedy 
for its relief. To this end, wise heads and benevolent hearts have 
already made fruitless efforts. Individual benevolence has copi- 
ously shed its sweet pearl-drops to assuage the misery. Combined 
benevolence, in the form of societies, has poured in its refresh- 
ing showers to abate the evil, but all these have been swallowed 
up in the monstrous vortex, like the merest heaven-drops by the 
choking earth, leaving hardly a momentary impress. The power- 
ful and skilful arm of the government, too, has deployed its ener- 
gies, but without success, — and the evil continues to go on with 
appalling strides. 

In the afternoon, made a visit to the famous London Tower, 
strongly associated in my mind with many a sad memento in the 
dark annals of English history. "We awaited a half hour in the 
office where we purchased our tickets for thirty-seven and a half 
cents. When our number had sufficiently increased to make it an 
object for the attendant to show us the place, we were led on by 
him, and conducted through the different parts of the grim edifice, 
in a precise and hurried manner. He made explanations of the 
different objects in our way, but so rapidly as to prove nearly un- 
intelligible. Thus to run through a place filled with so many and 
deep historical recollections, is the most unsatisfactory possible. 
The mind loves to linger around the storied spot, to contemplate 
leisurely the existing memorials of tragical events, and yield to 
the gentle melancholy which the scene awakens. The rooms of 
historical armory were an interesting feature. Here were ranged 
in convenient order, the armors worn by warriors of different 



TOWER OF LONDON. 363 



grades, from tlie earliest period, up to the time wlien the use of 
gunpowder rendered these unwieldly coverings a useless appen- 
dage. The mails of the most renowned military characters were 
pointed out ; and some of these were huge and heavy beyond be- 
lief. Their weight alone must have required great physical 
power to have borne them up ; and we w^ere told, that often these 
armor-clad chieftains, when thrown from their horses, w^ere either 
crushed by the weight of their mail, or unable to rise under its 
enormous w^eight. We were shown, too, the weapons correspond- 
ing to the mails, from the huge battle-axe, the iron-toothed club, 
for merciless blows upon the head, the blunt-pointed spear for un- 
horsing, to the more modern broad-sword. Terrible must have 
been the concussion of two bold and athletic chieftains thus clad 
and armed, upon strong and impetuous war-horses ! 

We passed into a room used formerly for the prison. Here 
several royal personages, highest nobles, and most distinguished 
commoners of England awaited in terrible silence their fate, either 
by the hands of the executioner, or by the dagger and bowl of 
the assassin. We w^ere shown here the identical block upon which 
Lady Jane Gray was beheaded, and the axe that separated from 
the body her youthful head, and sent her sweet and noble spirit 
direct to heaven. Neither the axe nor block is curious enough 
for a dissertation. The former is in the shape of a carpenter's 
broad-axe, only smaller ; the latter, little more than a billet of 
wood, on end, perhaps two feet in height, of narrow form, and op- 
posite edges scolloped to receive the shoulders of the victim. We 
were shown the cell adjoining this room, where was immersed for 
thirteen years the illustrious Sir Walter Raleigh. Here the heroic 
prisoner devoted himself to literary pursuits, and composed several 
w^o;^5 among them his famous History of the World. The wails 



364 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



of the dungeon, we were told, are sixteen feet thick, of well-joined 
and cemented pieces of stone. 

In the Jewel Office we had a glimpse of the Crown-Jewels. 
They are nicely enclosed in an immense glass case, and comprise 
the crown of Her Majesty Victoria, that of the Prince of Wales, 
one or two other crowns, the baptismal vessels of the royal family, 
and three swords, one of Truth, of Justice, of Mercy. The point 
of the latter was blunt, emblematic of " the quality of mercy 
which is not strained.'" The crown of Her Majesty had been re- 
cently remodeled, and received additional jewels taken from the 
other crowns. It was certainly a most " glittering bauble," and 
expensive enough, one would think, for the vanity of any lady. 
The baptismal vessels were of gold, elaborate and rich, of course. 
The value of the whole is estimated to be about fifteen millions of 
dollars. On turning away, I ventured to remark in a soliloquizing 
mood, How much good might not that sum do in relieving the 
miseries of poor, starving Ireland ; whereupon, my stalv/ort guide 
bridled up to me, and in a tone swelling with wounded pride, ejacu- 
lated, " Yes, and we have spent double that sum on the miserable 
people within a few years." 

This rude fortress is situated on the river-bank, in the east part 
of the city, about a quarter of a mile below London Bridge. It 
was begun by William the Conqueror, in 1098, and additions were 
made by Henry III, by Edward TV, and by Charles X. The 
tower was a royal palace during more than five centuries. It waa 
long ago, and still is in fact, a state-prison. It anciently contained 
several detached masses of buildings, most of which have now 
disappeared. It is surrounded by a moat, filled with water from 
the Thames, and the outer bank has recently been turned into 
pleasure grounds. 

March IQt/i. To-day made a visit to St. Paul's — the cathedral- 



ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL. 365 



church of London, and not only the great architectural glorj of 
the metropohs, but of the empu-e. The noble structure stands in 
an elevated situation at the top of Ludgate Hill, and towers above 
the other buildings, by which it is surrounded, like some giant-oak 
amid a grove of sapplings. In regard to the general effect of its 
exterior, I have little to say. It is undoubtedly fine, because good 
judges say so ; but I must confess that I was not impressed in a 
high degree Vv^th its beauty. After contemplating the Louvre, 
the Pantheon, and the Madeline, I had little admiration left for the 
exterior of St. Paul's. But the interior is chaste and imposing. 
Still, owing to a want of ornament, it has a naked and austere ap- 
pearance. Lately it has been attempted to obviate this defect by 
placing within the cathedral monuments, erected at the ]3ublic ex- 
pense, to emir :it individuals, — among whom may be specified 
Lord Nelson, Abercrombie, Dr. Johnson, Sir William Jones, How- 
ard the philanthropist, etc. I was forcibly struck with the ex- 
pressive character beaming from the bust of the latter. But these, 
it must be said, do but little credit to the builder. They appear 
like "pigmies in vales." But there is one feature of St. Paul's 
that cannot but ever fill the beholder with wonder and delight. I 
refer to its noble dome. As you gaze from the pavement of the 
church up into its immense concavity, you are struck with admira- 
tion. The enormous vault seems actually poised in the air, and 
you are taken up in imagination beyond the confines of earth to a 
region of ethereal grandeur and beauty. 

While walking about on the floor of the church, I encountered 
a couple of very youthful looking gentlemen. By their light 
features and restless air, I at once recognized them as Amf^ricans. 
Accosting them, I learned that they v/ere true-blooded Connecticut 
Yankees, who were driving briskly their queer trade m the line of 
Baby Jumpers, — then a new invention in its way. Yankee like, 

31*^ 



366 CRESTS FROM TH5* OCEAN-WOKLD. 



they had succeeded in the short space of time they had been in 
London in bringing their hobby before the pubhc. Thej were 
seUing, they informed me, quite rapidly, had got a handsome notice 
of it in a learned work just issued, from the pen of one of the 
eminent physicians under the royal patronage, and had even been 
to put one up at Buckingham Palace. Th^y were sanguine of 
realizing a handsome sum in a short time. 

"We proposed immediately making the ascent to the summit in 
company ; and reached the whispering-gallery by an inside stair- 
way. Here, by some princiiDle of acoustics, a whisper, made with 
the lips upon the wall, is heard the entire diameter of the cupola, 
by placing the ear against the opposite wall. We then went into 
the hbrary, where, among other interesting objects, were shown 
us a book in manuscript, more than a thousand years old. It was 
attached to a chain, which in olden times was necessary to protect 
property so rare and valuable. By a more diflBicult ascent we 
reached the golden gallery, which crowns the apex of the dome, 
at the base of the lantern. Before reaching this point we were 
stopped by a portly kee23er, who demanded sixpence as a condition 
of passing him. " But we have already paid,'* said one of my 
companions, " for seeing the entire edifice." " x^ot for this," was 
the reply. " We were told so." " Can 't help it." " Wont you 
let us pass ? " " No ! " « Well," said my acquaintance, " I really 
beheve that old daddy Bidl would dig up and exhibit the very 
bones of his grandfather for a shilling ! " 

This, as might be supposed, inflamed the ire of our guard not 
a little, and he retorted " But you have to pay for everything 
you see in Paris." " You can 't make us believe that," was the 
rej)ly, « for we have just come from there, and know better." 

We were highly favored by the unrivalled view from the gal- 
lery. Owing to the usual density of the smoke, this splendid view 



ST. PAUL'S CATHEDEAL. 357 



is rarelj seen in perfection ; but hj great good fortune, the steady 
storm which had been raging, suddenly cleared away and revealed 
to our delighted gaze one of the most comprehensive and pic- 
turesque views that I remember ever to have seen. The entire 
metropolis, vast as it is, appeared to spread out at our feet. The 
broad and silvery hne of the river, crossed by numerous bridges, 
and bearing on its bosom numbers of graceful steamers, and ves- 
sels of every kind, gave infinite variety and grandeur to the scene. 
At this, height the carriages, horses and men, in the streets below, 
appear so diminutive as, not inaptly, to suggest the idea of a 
swarm of emmets. 

The edifice is built in the form of a Latin cross, and is five 
hundred and ten feet in length, and one hundred and ten feet in 
breadth. The immense dome is surmounted by a lantern, ball, 
and cross, — the latter being elevated three hundred and sixty- 
two feet above the level of the floor, and three hundred and sev- 
enty-six feet above the pavement of the church yard. The two 
turrets, or belfries, in the west front, are each two hundred and 
twenty-two feet in height. The walls are decorated by two stories 
of coupled pilasters, arranged at regular distances, — those below 
being of Corinthian order, and those above of the Composite. 
The whole building is of Portland stone ; and its massiveness and 
solidity warrant the inference that it will be as lasting as magnifi- 
cent. It is said that St. Paul's is a close imitation of St. Peter's 
at Rome ; but it has been truly answered, that it is an imitation 
that bears the impress of transcendent genius, and may be said to 
be to St. Peter's what the -^neid is to the Iliad and Odyssey. 
There are striking points of difierence; and in vastness of dimen- 
sions, St. Peter's as far exceeds St. Paul's, as the latter does the 
common English churches. St. Paul's was completed in thirty- 
five years after laying the first stone, by one architect, under one 



368 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



bishop of London, costing onl j about three millions seven hundred 
thousand dollars, which was raised by a small impost on coal 
brought to London ; while St. Peter's, the work of twelve arclii- 
tects, took one hundred and fortj-five years to build, during the 
pontificate of nineteen popes. 

This noble edifice is the work of Sir Christopher "Wren, whose 
name is associated with all that is great in English architecture. 
The future eminence of this distinguished man, hke that of his 
great contemporary, Pascal, was early foreseen. Even at the age 
of thirteen, he made an important astronomical discovery, which 
was the preluding scintillation of his magnificent genius. From 
this time up to the period when he commenced the lasting monu- 
ment of his transcendent powers, his whole soul was actively ab- 
sorbed to reach a high point of culture. He was now favored 
with the society of the brightest geniuses of his day ; and was an 
active member of the various scientific societies. Nor was this 
part of his life barren of immediate fruits. He made, on the con- 
trary, several useful inventions and important discoveries, and 
was, in fact, recognized as one of the first scientific geniuses of his 
*ime. But the great work of his life, of course, that which will 
*^st for ages as a proud monument of his genius, is the noble ca- 
thedral of St. Paul's. Yet, so great was his talent, so untiring 
his perseverance, that the immense labors connected with this did 
not absorb his entire time, but left a portion for fruitful investi- 
gations in other departments of science. The greatness of such 
spirits continues to elevate and delight mankind for ages untold. 

March 11th. EiFected, this morning, an agreement for a pas- 
sage to Boston, in the brig Waltron of Falmouth, N. S., Capt. 
Davidson. The Captain, a plain, but sj^mpathetic and kindly-na- 
tured man, seemed gratified at the idea of having me on board 
along with him, entered at once into familiar conversation, and 



THA1\IES TuNNEL. 3^9 



proposed in a pleasurable spirit to accompany rae in a visit to the 
Thames Tunnel. This remarkable excavation effects a connection 
between the banks of the river, about two mil^s below London 
Bridge ; and its entire length is thirteen hundred feet. You de- 
scend to the arch-waj by an easy flight of steps. Your sensations 
are rather odd, on realizing that a broad and deep river is flowing 
above you, bearing on its bosom huge, heavily laden ships. The 
body of the tunnel is of brick-work in Eoman cement. It consists 
of a double and capacious archway, one side being appropriated 
to carriages passing in one direction, and the other to those pas- 
sing in the contrary, wdth paths for foot-passengers by the side of 
the carriage-road. The middle road between the two archways 
was first built solid for greater strength ; but openings were after- 
wards cut at short distances, so that each has a ready communi- 
cation with the other. 

In the course of the work, two irruptions of the river took 
place; the first on the eighteenth of May, 1827, after the excavation 
had been advanced to the distance of four hundred feet ; and the 
second in January, 1828. I was told that one of them was caused 
by an American ship's casting anchor directly over the tunnel. 
These accidents were, however, repaired by filling the chasms in 
the river witii bags of clay ; and on clearing the tunnel of water, 
the structure was found, on both occasions, to be in a perfectly 
sound state, and to have sustained little injury. This work is cer- 
tainly one of the most extraordinary that it ever entered into the 
mind of man to attempt. Its cost was more than two milhons 
and a half of dollars. In contemplating it, we know not which 
most to admire, in its originator, the grandeur and boldness of its 
conception, or the genius and energy with which it was carried to 
a successiLd completion. During its progress, it was visited by 
multitudes of persons from all parts of the world ; and now the 



370 CRESTS FRCM THE OCEAN-WUELD- 



sum received from the visitors wlio daily view it, is its principal 
remunerative benefit. It would doubtless prove interesting to de- 
tail the works and process of operation in its construction, but 
room fails. 

Made, likewise, a visit to the British Museum. It is principal- 
ly deposited in Montague-house, Great Russell Street, Blooms- 
bury ; and this being a considerable distance westward from the 
Tunnel, I made very pleasantly the greater part of the distance 
in one of those little steamers which ply on the Thames, through 
the city, for the transit of passengers. These constitute an 
original feature in the city. Only think of being conveyed in 
a steamer, Avhen you make a morning's call, or just step out to 
see a neighbor. They afford a common and convenient mode 
of traversing the city in an eastern or western direction, — 
and they are always thronged vfith passengers. There were 
three lines, and the prices for a passage were respectively four 
pence, two pence, and one penny. The latter was called the Cit- 
izens' Line, and the boats were equal to the others. They start 
every ten minutes, from different stations, and traverse only that 
part of the Thames v>diich borders on the business part of the 
city. They are small, of beautiful model, and may be seen cut- 
ting around each other, and darting under the spacious arches of 
the massive bridges, like graceful Tritons. A morning's prome- 
nade by one of them is inspiring. 

Stepping out of the boat, a turn took me into Trafalgar Square. 
The beauty of this place is heightened by the noble front of the 
National Gallery on the north of the Square, and the Nelson Mon- 
ument rising majestically from the centre. The latter is sur- 
mounted with a fine statue representing England's greatest naval 
hero. There he stands in a commanding attitude, looking serenely 
down upon the thronging masses who, as they pass, are thrilled with 



BRITISH MUSEUM. 371 



emotions of pride at the mere sight of this beautiful shaft, remind- 
ing them of the national power and glory. The monument is 
named, of course, for the last of those brilliant naval engagements 
of the great commander, in which, off the Cape of Trafalgar, he 
purchased a splendid victory with the loss of his life. Nelson 
arose, by the force of his character, from an humble position in 
the English navy, to the highest pinnacle of its fame ; and died, 
covered with titles of honor, and loaded with wealth. As a prO' 
fessional character, he possessed a mighty genius, an ardent spirit, 
and a resolute mind ; cool, prompt, and discerning, in the midst 
of danger he raised all his powerful energies into action, and the 
strong faculties of his soul were vigilantly exerted in the midst of 
the fury of battle, to make every accident contribute to the tri- 
umph of his crew, and to the glory of his country. So highly 
established was his reputation, that his presence was said to be a 
tahsman to the courage of his sailors, who fought under him as 
sure of victory, and regarded his approbation as the best solace 
for their fatigues and their sufferings. 

The Museum equalled the high expectations I had formed of 
it. It is truly a national institution, and was established in 1753. 
It is a grand repository for books, MSS., statues, coins, and other 
antiquities, specimens of animals and minerals, etc., and is consid- 
ered in most respects, one of the richest in Europe. The depart- 
ment of antiquities is certainly valuable. It comprises the collec- 
tion of Egyptian monuments, including the famous Kosetta stone, 
acquired at the capitulation of Alexandria in 1801 ; the Townly 
marbles, purchased at a cost of -one hundred and fort}^ thousand 
dollars ; the Phigalian and the El^in marbles, the cost of whicli 
was one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars. The latter 
includes the statues of Theseus and Ilissus, and the sculptures in 
alto-releivo from the friezes of the Pa-^henon. The collection here 



372 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



was not completely arranged, so immense are the labors required 
to keep up an exact system. The library is an interesting feature. 
It comprises a collection formed in part by various presents from 
time to time ; but the most valuable addition of late years, is the 
library of George III, collected at an expense of one million 
of dollars, and presented to the Museum by his successor. Mod- 
ern English publications are added free of expense ; and about 
one million five hundred thousand dollars a year are expended in 
the purchase of old and foreign works. There are about 330,000 
printed books, and 27,000 MSS., exclusive of charters. The ave- 
rage number of readers is two hundred and twenty a day. 

The department of zoology is rich in. birds and insects, but poor 
in other respects, especially in mammalia. I was wonderfully 
interested, of course, in viewing the skeleton of the huge masti- 
don, the picture of which I had marvelled over so much in my 
school-going days. 

The collection of medals, which has been accumulating since 
the foundation of the museum, consists of about twenty thousand 
coins. 

The collection of minerals is large. Both for size and classifi- 
cation, it will bear to be compared with any mineralogical collec- 
tion in Europe. Fac-similes in glass of the various large diamonds 
in the world, were particularly shown us. This Museum, with 
two or three other places, were the only ones I found free to the 
public. 

Although the weather was inclement, still there were quite a 
throng of persons examining the collections. Among the number 
was a small party of gentlemen from Ohio. They seemed deeply 
engrossed. One of the youngest of their number in particular, 
could hardly suppress his enthusiasm, but flew from one case of 
minerals to another in childish ecstasy. 



WESTMINSTER, OR WEST END. 373 



The present building of the Museum was designed by Sir R. 
Smike, and was only recently completed. It is quadrangular, with 
a noble and splendid facade ornamented with Ionic columns. 

March 18th. Weather fine, for the first day since being in Lon- 
don. Westward ho ! to revel in the varied beauties of West End. 
London-proper is but a small place, comprising an area only of 
about six hundred acres, while what is nov/ covered with buildings 
has an area of about fifteen square miles, or ten thousand acres. 
The old city is the heart of the body, whence issue the pulsations 
of business. Westminster, or West-End, is the head, or seat of 
government, — and the east part of the town, with the docks, the 
feet. It is not difficult to trace other features of resemblance to 
the human body. For instance, the Thames running through the 
city in an easterly direction, dividing the city into two parts, 
may be styled the vertebral column ; the long streets running 
parallel with the river, and lined with stores, may take the name 
of the arms and fingers of the body, while the magnificent parks 
have been most appropriately designated the lungs of London. In 
the old part of the city the buildings are huddled, and have a 
dingy air, — the streets are absolutely thronged with all manner 
of vehicles and foot-passengers, elbowing their way in every direc- 
tion ; but the West-End, the residence of the royal family, the 
nobility, the foreign ambassadors, and public functionaries, presents 
a neat, open, and beautiful appearance. 

I first took a boat from London Bridge to Trafalgar Square, 
and in my route thence to St. James's Park, passed the Equestrian 
Statue of George IV ; the Church of St. Martin in the Fields, 
the portico of which is much admired; the building of the National 
Gallery ; the Royal College of Physicians ; the fine Equestrian 
Statue, in bronze, of George III ; the Nelson Column ; the 
Northumberland House ; the Admiralty Office ; the chief military 

32 



374 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



establishment of the Horse Guards ; the Banqueting House ; the 
Treasury ; Westminster Bridge, and the New Parhament House. 
The change of feeUng on entering St. James's Park is dehghtful. 
It is the elasticity of emotion on the sudden transition from the 
turmoil and dust of a dense city, to the joyous and smiling fra- 
grance of the country. There is a marked difference between the 
English and French parks. The latter are artificially beautiful ; 
the former naturally delightful. The former may be more pleas- 
ing to the traveller, but the latter must be more lovely and refresh- 
ing to the citizen. St. James's is one of the smallest parks in 
London, being only one-fifth as large as Hyde Park ; but it is 
hardly inferior to any in point of beauty and attractiveness. Its 
site being low, it was formerly damp and marshy. Within these 
few years, however, the central part has been tastefully laid out, 
and what was a dirty, straight canal, running through a marsh, 
has become a handsome, varied sheet of water, dotted with islands, 
forming the abode of numerous aquatic birds and surrounded by 
lawns, shrubbery and lofty trees. The park is open to all pedes- 
trians, and on any fair day, it may be seen thronged with well- 
dressed people of both sexes, and all ages, promenading, loitering, 
reclining, — and all evincing a happier existence imparted by the 
animated and charming scenery around them. Royalty herself 
has no more delightful spot in which to recreate than this ; and 
here the humblest citizen, escaped from his toil and lost to the 
misery of his lot, can bathe as freshly in the fragrant waters of 
nature, as the queen herself descending from her purple throne. 

I here fell into conversation with an elderly man, leading a lad, 
perhaps his grandson. On learning that I was from the United 
States, he appeared seized with a kind of gladsome surprise, and 
■began plying me with questions about my country with a youthful 
curiosity. The tone which pervaded his style of speaking, when 



THE LONDON PARKS. 375 



referring to the New World, showed, however, that he held it not 
in very high estimation ; and when he brought it into comparison 
with England, it actually dwindled into insignificance. According 
to him, England was the grandest, noblest, richest, and finest coun- 
try to be found in the whole world. There were, he admitted, 
^ome sadly dark features on her luminous disk, but she was, after 
^dl, a glorious country, — and the Queen — God bless her — ■ the 
toveliest, the most perfect woman on earth. The cannon just at 
•hat moment were booming the national joy for the safe delivery 
of the queen, who had given birth to another son. I ventured to 
ask how the industrial part of the community could consistently 
rejoice at an event which added eighty thousand dollars per an- 
vium to the national expense — to be wrung out of the toiling 
masses ? He gently shook his head, and by his silence plainly 
i^ave me to understand that he felt the force of my objection. 

At the western extremity of the park, and commanding a fine 
/iew of its plantations, stands Buckingham Palace, the town- 
residence of her majesty, Queen Victoria. The English them- 
selves do not praise this edifice, and regard it as only remarkable 
for its extravagant cost, amounting to some five million dollars. 
The poorness of its effect may be attributed, however, in a meas- 
ure, to its depressed situation. Indeed, the ground in front of the 
palace not being paved, becomes in wet weather a most offensive 
puddle. It was, however, undergoing extensive repairs, which 
were destined, doubtless, to give the royal mansion an improved 
aspect. 

From St. James's Park I pursued my way leisurely through 
Green Park, — a triangular piece of ground about as large as St. 
James's, from which it gradually rises to Piccadilly. It can have 
but little pretensions to beauty, being little more than a dry 
meadow, traversed by walks. St. James's Palace, at the right,— 



376 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

at the west end of Pall Mall, — is an irregular, mean-looking 
brick building, totally unworthy tlie name of a palace. It was 
erected by Henry VIII. It was the residence, if I remember 
rightly, of the queen-dowager, and is said to be, internally, hand- 
somely fitted up for court-levees and drawing-rooms, which are 
mostly held in it. 

Passing out of Green Park, I came to the road leading from 
Piccadilly and Oxford, and to the west of which is the famous 
Hyde Park, frequented daily by the royal family, nobility, and 
the aristocracy of the nation. It has eight entrances. At this 
point, you enter by a triumphal arch, surmounted by a huge 
equestrian statue of the late Duke of Wellington. As a work of 
art it did not strike me as possessing remarkable beauty, but it 
carries something of an imposing effect, and stands out to view a 
prominent object for a long distance in the park. A little to the 
right, stands the Apsley House, the town-residence of the " Iron 
Duke.'' It is a quadrangular, plain, massive building. As I 
passed, a lady of large proportions, and richly dressed in satin and 
furs, drove up alone, at full speed, in a splendid carriage, drawn by 
a span of beautiful and spirited horses, and reining up the steeds, 
leaped out of the carriage with the agility of a circus-rider, and 
entered the house without ringing. 

A little within the park, at the entrance just named, is a colossal 
statue of Achilles, placed there by the ladies of London in honor 
of the Duke of Wellington and his brave associates in the Con- 
tinental war. It is cast from the cannon taken at different battles ; 
is twenty feet high, and weighs thirty tons. The park originally 
contained six hundred and twenty acres ; but now contains only 
four hundred. It has a large and deep artificial lake extending, I 
should judge, two-thirds its length, crossed by a handsome bridge 
of five arches. This is called the Serpentine river, and is used 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 377 



for sailing, and swimming, and bathing. It is under the care of an 
officer of the crown, and there are distinct regulations to be ob- 
served by those who are admitted to the recreations. Beautifu] 
boats may be seen along the shores, and houses on its banks fur- 
nished with apparatus for resuscitation. The whole of the park is 
an open field of much beauty, dotted with trees and traversed by 
carriage-ways, which, in fine weather during the season, are cov- 
ered with gay and fashionable equipages. It is here that Prince 
Albert takes his morning ride, on horseback, and where the Queen, 
the Princes, and Princesses take their daily airing in good 
weather. Between the hours of two and five o'clock, afternoon, I 
found to be the most fashionable part of the day for seeking thither 
an airing. Kensington gardens, lying west of the park, and sep- 
arated from it by a trench and wall, are open to the public, and 
constitute a fine, shady promenade, three miles in circumference. 
These gardens are certainly fine, combining the grandeur and 
beauty of rural scenery in a high degree. 

Returning, I lingered an hour or two to contemplate West- 
minster Abbey. And how shall I convey my impressions of this 
venerable pile ! The edifice itself, although less grand and im- 
posing than the great church of Rouen, that of Paris, or Brussels 
even, is yet a gem of architecture, and is justly esteemed the most 
perfect specimen of the pointed style, in England. But however 
beautiful and interesting its exterior, you do not tarry a moment 
to enjoy the fine view. Feelings of intense emotion and curiosity 
hurry you within the sacred walls of the vast mausoleum, to stand 

" "Where England garners up her great ! " 

And when you pass through the rude, unpainted oaken door, 
which leads into the " Poet's Corner," and find yourself actu- 

32* 



378 CRESTS I'KOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



ally surrounded by tlie tombs of the mighty dead, — then it is 
that you become sensible of the power and majesty of the place. 
You stand for a moment spell-bound ! — You feel now in the 
presence of those glorious spirits with which your soul has deeply 
communed in ambrosial delight; noble spirits, to which you feel 
largely indebted for whatever of elevation you possess ; mighty 
spirits, that have made the world what it is ; immortal spirits on 
earth, destined to be reproduced in every age, till time shall be 
no more. 

As you gaze upon their marble effigies, surrounded by the gloom 
and damp that invests the place, a kind of supernatural awe seizes 
you ; you dread to step, for fear of disturbing the solemn, the sacred 
repose of the place. At least, such were in a measure my own emo- 
tions. At the eastern end of the abbey are the royal chapels, in which 
are the tombs of the kings and queens of England. Some of these 
are much despoiled, partly by time, but more by violence. Royal 
avarice plundered them of their sceptres and jewels ; and republi- 
can violence, out of wantonness, defaced them. Some, however, re- 
main well preserved. The stranger cannot but pause at the 
tombs of Alfred, of Edward the Confessor, of Henry VII, of 
EHzabeth, and Mary of Scotland. The last three he will find in 
the magnificent chapel of Henry VII, whose fretted ceiling, wholly 
wrought in stone, is an object of curious interest. In the western 
portion of the building, the long-drawn aisles are literally encrust- 
ed with monuments. But only here and there may be found one 
bearing a name which illumines the pages of history, or the pro- 
gress of science. The names of Pitt, Newton, and Wilberforce 
will arrest the attention, and bring up thoughts of these mighty 
departed. 

But he soon hurries back to the spot, where are enshrined the 
Poets, to revel in the glowing inspirations there afforded. There 



STATUES OF EmNENT MEN. 379 



stands, in graceful majestj, Shakspeare, holding a scroll, on which 
is engraved these subhme lines of the poet : — 

" The cloud-capped towerSf 
The gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temple, 
The great globe itself, — 
Yea, all which in it lives 
Shall dissolve — 

And like the baseless fabric of a vision, 
Leave not a wreck behind." 

I thought he might have excepted the matchless creations of his 
immortal genius. 

Here, too, was Gay, with these odd lines engraved below his 

bust : — 

"Life is a jest, and all things show it ; 
I thought so once, and now I know it." 

There was, also, old Ben Johnson, with a countenance expressive 
of profundity and wit ; and James Thompson, the poet of rural 
nature. The countenance of the latter bears a feminine and rich 
expression. His head was surrounded, I believe, with a garland 
of flowers. The following beautiful sentiment, from the Seasons, 
enhanced the pleasing view : — 

" The Muse, with a crown 
Tutored by sweet poetry, exalts 
Her voice to ages, and informs the page 
With music, sentiment, and thought never to die." 

There were, moreover. Dr. Watts, Mlton, Dryden, Handel, 
Garrick, and many others of the brightest stars in the galaxy 



380 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

of English literature, — but they cannot be even enumerated 
here. 

Spent the evening at the parlor of my hotel, in conversation 
with an intelhgent country gentleman. This had been my habit- 
ual mode of passing the evenings, since arriving in London. The 
hotel in question, as I have said before, being near the railroad 
terminus, was frequented by passengers on their first arrival in the 
cars. Many of them were country merchants residing in different 
parts of the island. Their society afforded a means of information 
which I was careful not to neglect. There are several ways of ob 
taining reliable information respecting a country. One is, to learn 
from the candid and more intelhgent of the rural population. You 
thus obtain something of a true picture of the national opinion and 
sentiment. I found these gentlemen, in manner and disposition, 
quite different from your English traveller in general. They were 
open and free in conversation, pommunicative, of a docile and 
teachable spirit. They seemed well versed in pohtics, and evinced 
considerable intelligence and discrimination respecting the in- 
stitutions and resources of their country ; but their knowledge 
did not extend much beyond the island. Of the United States, 
they evinced almost unpardonable ignorance, not only of its 
institutions, but even of its geography. They regarded their 
government as an expensive affair, and the taxes an oppres- 
sive burden, — still, they loved the Queen, and felt as loyal sub- 
jects. 

Sunday, 19th, attended Divine service. The denomination, I 
was told, was styled the Old Church of England. There were 
but few present, and the exercises were conducted in a formal, 
lifeless manner. I was well tired before it was over. Thence 
took a stroll in Regent's Park. This was formed during the re- 
gency, in the last years of George III. It is situated to the north 



LONDON PAEKS. 381 



of Portland Place, on lilgh ground, surrounded by splendid build- 
ings, and is tastefully laid out. Indeed, it is considered the hand- 
somest of the London parks, and is as large as that of Hyde. 
The gardens of the Zoological Society are situated on the north 
side of this park, while the central portion is laid out as a garden 
for the Botanic Society. On the east side of the park, near Park- 
Square, is the large building styled the Colosseum. It is a sixteen- 
sided polygonal structure, with a magnificent portico and cupola. 
It is principally occupied by an immense panoramic view of the 
metropolis, taken from the ball on the top of St. Paul's Ca- 
thedral. 

Besides these magnificent parks, exhibiting the varied loveli- 
ness of nature, heightened by the genius of art, there are a great 
number of fine squares in London. In many, the houses are in 
the first style of architecture, and the central gardens beautifully 
laid out. Several of the best squares are decorated with statues. 
The immense parks and numerous squares form a marked feature 
in this grand emporium, and render it an attraction of no small 
moment. Indeed, what would London be without its parks ? A 
vast bee-hive, rayless of the cheerful light of heaven. As it is, 
they gather the incense of homage from the hearts of all classes of 
citizens, and render London a very agreeable residence, largely 
uniting the splendor of a rich capital with the delightful fragrance 
of charming rural scenery. Here the poor man can cheer the 
monotony of toil by a glimpse of nature; and the rich can lead 
out his children to rejoice in the fair paradise of the omnipres- 
ent 6ky. 

On the northern side of the park is a natural elevation, afford- 
ing from its summit a partial view of the mammoth city. There 
were some fifteen or twenty ladies and gentlemen of us struggling 
for some time with moist and slippery clay under our feet, to gaic 



382 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



the moderate ascent. The citj lay stretching off interminablj be- 
fore our view, partially enveloped in a dingy atmosphere, while 
St. Paul's reared its noble dome as an object far off in the distance. 
None of us could scarcely realize that we were actually within the 
city, which seemed distinctly away from us, a distant mass of 
edifices. 



CHAPTER XXYI. 

HOSPITALITY OF THE ENGLISH — GALLERY OF PAINTINGS — POPU- 
LARITY OF QUEEN VICTORIA DISAFFECTION — ST. PAUL'S 

SCHOOL — GUILDHALL — ROYAL EXCHANGE — BANK OF ENG- 
LAND BRIDGES — HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT ST. JAMES's PARK 

PRINCE ALBERT NORMAL AND MODEL SCHOOL EAST INDIA 

DOCKS — ELIHU BURRITT — QUAKERS — NATIONAL SCHOOLS 

HOUSE OF LORDS — SHOPKEEPERS HOMEWARD BOUND. 

March 20th. To-day called on and delivered mj letters to Mr. 

E C , an extensive London merchant, with a view to 

trace out my Welsh friend, Captain B , whose acquaintance I 

had SO agreeably formed in ISfew York, just before leaving. Mr. 

C received me with an easy, unaffected cordiality, which is 

one mark of the true gentleman, — begged that I would make his 
house my home while in the city, and gently insisted that I would 
accept his carriage and company for an afternoon ride to see 

Captain B , some fifteen miles out of the city. From this and 

other experiences, I obtained a most favorable opinion of the hos- 
pitality and politeness of the English, especially with the better 
classes. It may be true that the national temperament begets a 
certain habit of reserve towards strangers, and a punctiliousness 
in the mode of introduction ; yet, when a stranger is presentt^d 
according to their idea of propriety, and has become their guest, 
every attention is bestowed to render him comfortable and happy. 



334 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 

Visited tlie National Gallery of Paintings. The building is 
situated on the north-west side of Trafalgar Square, unquestion- 
ably the finest situation in the metropolis. It has a front of five 
hundred feet, with a portico and dome in its centre, supported by 
Corinthian columns. The pictures, amounting to some one hun- 
dred and seventy, can only be looked upon as a nucleus to 
what may hereafter be worthy of the country. About half the 
pictures belong to the Italian school, and of these Ecce Homo and 
some others are most esteemed. The works of the two Caracci, 
N. Poussin, and Claude, may be here seen in their highest per- 
fection. There are also some fine specimens of the English 
school, by Reynolds, Hogarth, etc. ; also of the Flemish. Of the 
latter, I noticed gems from the pencils of Reubens, Vandyke, and 
Rembrandt. But one has httie patience to tarry long amid so 
meagre a collection, after having revelled in the Elysiums of Art 
in Paris and Brussels. Tiiis collection must not be taken, how- 
ever, as the true index of taste for art in England. For there 
are numerous small collections containing choice pieces, in the pos- 
session of private gentlemen, and not open to the public. 

The late accouchement of the queen, though an event of no un- 
usual occurrence, had yet taken possession of the public mind to 
an extent that we Americans can hardly imagine ; and the most 
trivial intelligence relating to her convalescence, was sought with 
avidity, not only by the court-circles and aristocracy, but by the 
humblest citizen. On the morning after the propitious event, I 
fancied to perceive in the street-thronging populace a brighter 
countenance even, and a more elate movement. Ere proceeding 
far, my way was interrupted by a dense crowd hanging around a 
corner, all eager to peruse a large hand-bill conspicuously, posted 
upon the wall. From the lively interest among the throng, I 
thought it no less than some government revolutionary decree, of 



I 



A PROPITIOUS EVENT. 335 



vital import ; and it was long before I could press near enough to 
read tlie paper. It was, indeed, a State paper, signed by the 
Queen's physicians, and several noble cabinet lords, in which they 
condescend to inform all her dutiful and loving subjects, and the 
London world in general, that her majesty, at such an hour and 
minute, was safely dehvered of an infant, and that at half-past 
seven o'clock, a. m., both the mother and child were doing well. 
The bold and stately manner of thus communicating a species of 
intelligence which I had been accustomed to see conveyed only 
by whispers and knowing smiles, struck me at first so oddly as to 
draw forth an involuntary ejaculation, little respectful, I imagine, 
to loyal ears, — v/hich being heard by a sturdy, well-dressed 
gentleman at my side, he darted on me a look so full of virtuous 
indignation, that I almost trembled in momentary expectation of 
being summarily called to account for rudeness so unwittingly 
shown. Squeezing out of the crowd, I pursued my way, a little 
humbled in feehng, and pondering upon the strange vicissitudes of 
life, upon the inequalities of human condition, and the marvellous 
aspect of the national train of thought and sympathy. It did 
look strikingly wonderful, while thousands of females, endowed 
by nature with the graces of life, should be passed by uncared- 
for by the multitude, and left to starve amid a world of plenty, 
with no fraternal heart to cheer the bitterness of their lot, 
nor sympathizing hand to soothe the anguish of their sufferings, 
that a single woman should be infolded from out of the world of 
humanities, lifted to an Elysian throne, and made the supreme ob* 
ject of earthly adoration ; that thus deified, she should be per- 
mitted not only to well up in monopoly the oceans and seas of de- 
lighted admiration immediately surrounding her, but to scoop dry 
the waters of love from the little wells and rivulets in the remotest 
parts of the kingdom. Still, moralize as I would, I felt that I was 
33 



386 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



quite wrong, and tlie Londoner fully right, that the life of the 
queen at that time of revolutionary panic, was of momentous in- 
terest to the nation, and the safety of the sweet infant as involving 
maternal anxiety of no trifling import. A fatal issue of this an- 
nual event of Buckingham Palace, would have rived the hearts 
of a large number of relatives, enshrouded in mournful gloom the 
court circles, and touched to weeping the hearts of loyal and lov- 
ing subjects. It would have severed a chord in the national pride, 
lessened the sentiment of public admiration, and withdrawn a liv- 
ing beau-ideal of the national glory. So appalling an event 
would, too, have involved a change in the course of government, 
and increased the apprehension of a civil war. But these were 
only circumstantial causes in swelling the national heart of sym- 
pathetic admiration and interest. The exercise of a natural sen- 
timent had begotten in the bosom of the Englishman a profound 
esteem for his queen. Invested in public estimation with the at- 
tributes that command the homage of the heart, she had become 
the enthroned idol of the national affection. Now, the human 
soul is fashioned to admire, to love, to worship. It will have some 
object even beyond the family circle upon which to employ its 
panting energies. It craves a living ideal of power and beauty 
to elevate and refine its aspirations. This denied it, the soul will 
often chase the phantom of its imagination, or settle upon grovel- 
ling objects of thought and action. Thus yielding homage to su- 
perior characters does not degrade the nature, but elevates it, as 
the contemplation of the beautiful beautifies the mind. I will not 
complain of the Englishman, then, for loving and reverencing his 
queen. Would there were no more degrading objects of worship 
than rendering grateful homage to a noble and beautiful woman. 

Becoming a little tired of my quarters, I removed to rooms with 
Mrs , in Tower Hill street. I say Mrs., because, although 



POPULARITY OF VICTORIA. 387 

the lady was living in marriage with her husband, he seemed so 
imbecile as hardly to merit being mentioned in the partnership. In- 
deed, I afterwards learned, that through his incapacity for business, 
their joint patrimony had become entirely sunk in trade, and they 
were living in the narrowest manner possible upon a very small 
income still belonging to the wife. This hardly sufficing, they 
were obliged to let the rooms of their house to travellers. The 
lady was naturally a noble, spirited, and energetic woman, and 
managed things at home to perfection. Her example, in the edu- 
cation of her family, may be mentioned as worthy the emulation 
of every mother. Though living with the utmost frugality her- 
self, their children were at the best schools in the realm, and on 
the Continent. Their oldest son had already just received a lu- 
crative appointment, and one of the daughters was spoken for to 
fill the place of governess in one of the best families in England. 
Doubtless, under the spirit of honorable ambition, inherited from 
the mother, they would soon rise to stations of profit and honor, 
and before long have wherewith not only to support in comfortable 
circumstances their parents, but likewise to gladden the hearts of 
the latter by their superiority in life. lirs. was a warm ad- 
mirer of queen Victoria, whom she invested with the beautiful 
hues of her own mind. According to her. Her Majesty was very 
popular throughout the entire realm, and had always been so. 
"When only the young daughter of the Duchess of Kent, she was 
a public idol, and could not move out from her home without receiv- 
ing in showers the fragrant incense of popular homage. Her Maj- 
esty's choice of a husband fell upon an English gentleman, an early 
rosebud of her heart's affection ; but the Duke of Wellington and 
the cabinet ministers, for reasons of state, would have her select 
from the princes of the blood. Indeed, another course would have 
been undignified, and contrary to the laws of the realm. Her 



CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



Majesty, according to my excellent landlady, is a sensible and 
amiable woman ; she is, moreover, highly educated and accom- 
plished, able to speak at least three of the modern languages of 
Europe, to execute finely upon the piano-forte, and to design with 
exquisite art. Indeed, a circumstance occurred while I was in 
London, which goes fully to substantiate the fact in regard to the 
latter accomplishment. It seems, the queen had loaned some of 
her drawings to a female friend, who allowed an artist professing 
great admiration for them, to take the drawings home for inspec- 
tion. The latter had them engraved, — and soon the shop-win- 
dows of the capital were embellished with the beautiful designs of 
Her Majesty. An action was immediately entered against the un- 
lucky artist, and the circulation of the drawings stopped, but not 
until the good citizens of London had caught a ghmpse of pic- 
tures actually executed by the dehcate hand of their sovereign. 
The queen is also very polite to all, even to her servants, and in- 
culcates the same principle in the manners of her children, with 
whom she is so particular in their education, as not to permit their 
reading a book without first having perused it herself. Then she 
is benevolent, sympathizing, and humane, giving freely to good 
enterprises, commiserating with the afflicted, and performing deeds 
of charity. With such a character, it is not surprising that she is 
esteemed and beloved by the entire nation. 

I observed by the papers, that a meeting of the Revolutionists 
of the capital was to be held in the evening, to devise measures 
for a revolution somewhat after the style of the grand movement 
in Paris ; but this did not seem to disturb in the least the public 
mind. An unsuccessful effort had been made a week or two be- 
fore ; but it resulted in little more than demonstrating the power 
of the government, and the loyalty of the citizens in general. 
Indeed, only a glance at the character of the EngHsh, and the 



STEENGTH OF THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT. 389 



condition of the nation, will show the high improbability of any- 
thing like an effective revolution in England. In the first place, 
the government and institutions of the country stand upon a more 
liberal basis than those of any country in Europe, and are little 
less popular in character than those of our own country. Then, 
the government is conducted with acute and far-seeing sagacity, 
by sage politicians, chosen by the queen in a liberal spirit, as hold- 
ing a nice equipoise between popular will and patrician conserva- 
tism. 

The queen, cabinet, and nobility in general, would never, of 
course, favor a revolution. The respectable, middling classes, 
largely engaged in manufactures and commerce, whose interests 
suffer disastrously in a civil disturbance, would not forsake their 
golden god, Mammon, to chase the unsubstantial form of Liber- 
ty. Then, the vast army, and mighty navy, the two huge ele- 
ments of power for carrying on war, or maintaining peace, are 
disposed with great skill to identify their rank and file with the 
disposition of the government, and place them in v/illing obedience 
to the cabinet wires. Besides, there is a large, thoroughly organ- 
ized, and powerfully efficient police extending with a net-work 
ramification throughout the realm, slumbering indeed, yet with 
eagle-eyed vigilance, and a lion force, and ever as true to their 
queen as the magnet is to the polar star. All these powers are 
immensely increased by the large, genuine, ever-beating, loyal 
heart in the Englishman, which oxidizes his national blood, and 
makes him feel the fratricidal poignancy of civil strife. Against 
such mighty forces, what can the toiling, panting, heel-trodden 
million do ? They may, as they have, and will probably, again, 
when some liberty-shriek fans anew in their breasts the flame of 
mortal indignation, throw up their arms and voices m pleading, 
avenging clamor, — but it is but the pattering rain amid the tem- 

33* 



S90 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

pest's roar, or the writhings and cries of the puny quadru^/ed in 
the giant paws of the king of beasts. 

Looked into St. Paul's school, situated near St. Paul's church 
It was established in 1518 by Dean Colet, and provides a free 
education for one hundred and fifty-three boys, the most advanced 
of whom are sent to Oxford and Cambridge. The present build- 
ing was erected in 1824, and the income of the school is about 
thirty thousand dollars per annum. I found it extremely difficult 
to gain admission to this school. 

Guild Hall, which I strolled through, stands at the north end of 
King street. The front, added in 1789, is in a heterogeneous 
style. The great hall, one hundred and fifty-three feet in length, 
by forty-eight ui breadth, and fifty-three in height, built and paved 
in stone, is capable of accommodating six thousand persons ; at 
least that number was present at the grand entertainment given 
by the corporation to the allied sovereigns in 1814. At each end 
of the hall is a magnificent painted glass window, in the pointed 
style. In the hall are statues of Pitt, Chatham, and others ; and 
in the west end are the two wooden giants, called Gog and Magog, 
the subject of so many popular tales. 

There are several other rooms possessing considerable interest. 
The walls of the Council Chamber are hung with paintings. 
Among them was a full-sized portrait of her Majesty as she ap- 
peared at the Coronation. The figure was graceful, and the 
countenance bore a sensible and amiable expression. A country 
gentleman present informed me that the portrait was a good repre- 
sentation of the queen, except that now she was grown stouter and 
more matronly, as he expressed it. There were also portraits of 
queen Caroline, the princess Charlotte, and of David Rienzi, the 
favorite of the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. Before fin- 
ishing a survey of the several apartments of the quaint and in- 



ROYAL EXCHANGE. -BANK OF ENGLAND. 391 

teresting edifice, a portly person, neatly dressed, accosted me in 
officious style, and begged in the blandest tones to point out to me 
something more than I had seen. After a turn or two, he left me ; 
but, as I was going, he suddenly made his appearance, and be- 
gan a series of complaisant looks and subdued gestures. Finding 
me slow to apprehend his meaning, he finally " popped the ques- 
tion " by asking that I would be good enough to hand him some- 
thing. 

" But," said I, " the building is free to strangers." 

" Ah, yes, but then gentlemen commonly pay." 

" How much will you have ?" 

" What you choose." 

I bestowed my best bow. He turned on his heel, as if he was 
not unused to such partings. It is a lesson the traveller latest 
learns, to know how to treat properly such gentry. 

I also looked around upon the Eoyal Exchange, of recent con- 
struction. It is a splendid building, and is one of the chief orna- 
ments of the city. It encloses an open square, in the centre of 
which stands upon an elevated pedestal, a full-sized statue of 
queen Victoria, erected in 1844. The artist has managed to im- 
part to the statue a full, luxurious, womanly deportment, which 
rivets the gaze of the beholder. At a rough estimate, two thou- 
sand merchants and brokers have their places of business within 
a half mile of the exchange, and meet there to carry on opera- 
tions by which the commercial affairs of the world are powerfully 
influenced. 

Near, is the Bank of England, a monied monster indeed. The 
building covers eight acres, and is irregular and incongruous 
enough. The affairs of the bank are managed by a governor, 
deputy-governor, and twenty-four directors, elected annually. The 
business is conducted by about nine hundred clerks, whose salaries 



-«> 



392 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD 



amount to about a million. The capital of tlie bank has been as 
large as £50,000,000, lent to the government at three per cent. 

March 22d. Took an early stroll through Cheapside and the 
Strand, the great thoroughfare of fashionable retail stores. It 
could bear no comparison with similar streets in Paris, and not 
surpassing, I thought, Broadway in New York, or Washmgton 
street in Boston. 

Made several agreeable calls on American gentlemen. Amer- 
icans in Europe are eminently fraternal. Distance, which lends 
enchantment io home, invests with a lively charm the living object 
which recalls to the tenderly yearning soul, the glowing associa- 
tions of country and friends. The Somerset House was pointed 
out to me as interesting from its historical associations. It is 
somewhat after the plan of the Louvre in Paris. Elizabeth and 
some of the other queens held levees here. Crossed the Thames 
by the " suspension bridge." This is certainly a great triumph of 
art. The Thames, averaging one thousand feet in width, is crossed 
by six bridges. These gigantic structures cost an aggregate of 
more than twenty five millions of dollars. Two of these, Vaux- 
hall and Southwark bridges, have iron arches, the centre arch of 
the latter being two hundred and forty feet in width. Waterloo 
bridge is really a fine structure. Canova said that it was itself 
worth a visit from the remotest corner of the world. It is of gran- 
ite, and has nine eUiptical arches, each one hundred and twenty- 
seven feet wide. The new London bridge, whether regarded in 
reference to magnitude or the beauty and simplicity of its struc- 
ture, is one of the finest specimens of bridge-architecture in the 
world. It is built of granite, and the span of the centre arch is 
one hundred and thirty-two feet. 

From Westminster bridge, I had a fine view of the new houses 
of Parliament. They have a splendid river-front, nearly seven 



PPJNCE ALBERT'S LEVEE. 893 



hundred feet in length, with a terrace and staks leading down to 
the water. The style of architecture is gothic, and beautiful. The 
edifice forms a striking feature in the metropolis, and is an orna- 
ment to the city. It is very elaborate in finish and profuse in or- 
nament, but lacks grandeur. It stands on a low site, and the edi- 
fice itself seems to want due proportionate height. 

I was dehghted with the scene on passing into St. James's Park. 
The sky was open, and the air soft and balmy. Numbers of peo- 
ple, young and old, sedate and gay, variously costumed, were saun- 
tering in the serpentine walks. Children accompanied with their 
governesses were gamboling in happy merriment upon the ver- 
dant lawns. Birds of varied plumage from amidst the shrubbery, 
were enlivening the scene with their rich notes, while aquatic fowls 
were sailing gracefully over the mirrored surface of the impearl- 
ed lake, conscious of the beauty of the scene around. Thus issu- 
ing suddenly from the dense city to the gladsome country, is Hke 
entering a new world. 

At the comer of Hyde Park, I learned of Prince Albert's levee 
at St. James's Palace at two o' clock, p. h. I was there, of course 
in time to witness the cortege. The crowd of spectators was not 
so great as I had expected. 

The carriages entered by three different ways. Those of the 
foreign ambassadors by one, the officers of State by another, and 
the Royal, still by another. Some of the carriages were splendid, 
but others not finer than what may be seen every day in Boston 
and New York. All the carriages had footmen, who were gener- 
ally in hvery. As the centre squares of the carriages were down, 
and the inmates uncovered, a fine opportunity was presented to scan 
the features and costume of this imjoosing array of the elite of the 
world. Some were accoutred in uniform, some garbed in gown and 
mg, and others in simple citizens' dress. They were, on the wholcj 



394 CEESTS FEOM TEE OCEAN-WOELD. 



very sensible and intelligent looking. They continued rolling 
past, till a late hour, and the first arrivals were departing long be- 
fore the last had come. The cortege of the Prince consisted of 
three carriages, escorted by the "horse guards," beautifully moun- 
ted on black steeds, preceded by a spirited brass band. The 
prince's was the middle carriage, a heavy, but splendid affair, 
rich with gilding, and drawn by eight cream colored horses, with 
coachman, postilion, and four richly liveried footmen, behind. The 
centre piece was down, and from the top of the post, where I had 
been standing for som^ time, in impatient expectancy, I had a fair 
opportunity to look directly in upon the Prince. He was in uni- 
form, uncovered, and accompanied by two gentlemen, one seated 
by his side, and the other opposite. He was of medium stature and 
size, something less than the average of English bulk. He ap- 
peared good looking, but not handsome; a mild, sensible, German 
face. He wore a neat moustache of sandy hue, but no whiskers. 
Not quite satisfied with this glance, I waited till his return, when 
I walked briskly by the side of the carriage, till it turned into the 
Palace Court, when I apologized for my boldness, by uncovering 
and saluting the royal personage, in form. It was acknowledged 
by the Prince, by a slight inclination. The next day, being in 
Hyde Park, three horsemen, in plain citizens' dress, at short dis- 
tances from each other, rode past at a round trot. The foremost 
one, when opposite me reigned up, and lifting his hat made a grace- 
ful inclination of the head. Turning to a workman near, I was 
told it was the Prince. His change of dress had rendered him 
not recognizable by me. His royal highness is said to be very 
courteous and polite to everybody, and especially to strangers. 
Indeed, he has little else to do, but to win popularity. He may 
truly be considered a lucky mortal, and his lot a happy one, so far 
as happiness depends on fortunate condition ; for he enjoys the 



NORMAL AND MODEL SCHOOL. 395 



honors, and pleasures of royalty, Avithout its burthens and dan- 
gers. 

An incident took place near me, while awaiting the cortege at 

the Prince's levee, which shows the eagle-eyed efficiency of the 
London police. Near me I saw a man suddenly seize another by 
the throat, and press him to the earth. A fierce struggle ensued. 
A crowd gathered, but there was no confusion. It seemed that 
information had been given that a certain person had passed coun- 
terfeit money. Whereupon, two of these lynx-eyed officers, dis- 
guised, with no other guide than a general description of the per- 
son, tracked him out, and came thus upon him unawares. The 
counterfeiter, when seized, attempted to swallow the money upon 
him, — but the gripe at his throat made with reference to that 
contingency, proved a successful barrier. 

March 23c?. I visited, to-day, the Normal and Model School in 
the Borough Road. There are upwards of three thousand pu- 
pils, who are taught by the Lancastrian system. The school is 
under the care of the National Society, which has its model school 
in the sanctuary at Westminster, and gives instruction to more 
than nine thousand pupils. The young gentleman whom I ad- 
dressed, with a cordial, enthusiastic air bid me welcome to visit 
them as often as I wished, and stay as long as I pleased. " He 
would be glad," he said, " to have the world know of it, and see 
it." He regarded me with wonder, on learning that I was a 
school-master from the U. States, and had actually visited the 
schools on the continent. He remarked, that he was then deepl} 
interested in reading a work on Popular Education, written in the 
U. States. I first went into the model school, composed of about 
six hundred pupils from the poorer classes, who pay two pence, or 
about four cents per week, as tuition. They are instructed by 
members of the superior department, styled normal pupils. The 



396 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



session was principalij in a large hall, or school-room, v/itii long 
seats running quite across the room, except leaving a wide aisle 
entirely around the apartment. At recitation, all the pupils were 
grouped in circles of from ten to fifteen in number, with the 
teacher in the centre. 

As they recited simultaneously, some unusual noise prevailed. 
The exercise was arithmetic. The master gave out the problem, 
and all the pupils performed the same. When completed, the 
master questioned critically, in a cursory manner ; but there was 
little that could be called philosophy in the manner of teaching. 
But there was a promptness and vigor on the part of the teacher, 
and an earnestness and attention in the pupil, which indicated ef- 
ficiency and progress ; hence many of the pupils were advanced 
for their age. Corporal punishment is held here as a last resort. 

I visited several other rooms. In one, there was an exercise 
in natural history. The master, a very young man, appeared fa- 
miliar with his subject, and deeply interested in the exercise. 
But he was most unpardonably impatient, hurried, and morose, 
and tumbled his little pupils around as if they had no sense of 
kindness, or delicacy of feeling. They gave good attention, how- 
ever, and appeared progressing in the interesting science. 

At half-past three, p. m., I was present to attend a critical lec- 
ture by one of the normal pupils, before a class of the " model 
school." Other members of the normal department were present, 
as well as Dr. Cornwall, taking notes. The lecturer was some 
time getting his class to order, to hsten to his address, — scolding, 
pinchmg, cuffing them by turns, while the other normalites would 
frequently come to the rescue, volunteering a little authority of 
their own. The scene in this respect was painfully ludicrous, and 
reminded me of the confusion produced by a ship coming into 
dock under a press of canvas, to be taken in on the spur of the 



DOCKS OF LONDON. 397 



moment. After the lecture, Dr. Cornwall informed me that his 
lecture, which was to come off at four, p. m., would be suspended, 
to give the scholars opportunity to visit the Museum, according to 
their practice once a quarter ; but if I would be pleased to call at 
any other time, I should be shown and told everything relating to 
the school, with great pleasure. I left with a lively feeling of the 
usefulness of the institution. I visited several other schools for 
the poorer classes, but I have no space here to record my impres- 
sions in detail. 

March 26th. After breaivfast, took a ride over the BlackwaU 
Kailway to the East India Docks, some three miles down the 
river, on the right bank of the Thames. They were commenced 
in 1803, and opened in 1806. As their name impHes, they belong 
to the East India Company. There are two docks, covermg 
eighteen acres of ground. My object in visiting these was, to see 
some of the East India ships, of which I had heard so much ; 
but I must say I was disappointed. In size, model, and style, they 
bore no comparison to the idea I had formed of them, by the re- 
presentations of my English friends. I must say that little risk 
is run in stating that we are in advance of the English in ship 
building. A little further up the river you come to the West 
India Docks. In one of these, six hundred vessels may be ac- 
commodated ; and the whole area covered by them and their 
warehouses, is about three hundred acres. The extent of the 
Commercial Docks, further along, is even greater than those last 
described. Then come the London Docks ; and last the St. Cath- 
arine Docks, situated just below the Tower. These are all vast 
receptacles, solidly and even beautifully constructed, and are one 
of the greatest wonders of London. 

In the East India House I saw a huge meteoric stone, weighing 
twenty-five pounds, wliich was observed to fall, accompanied by a 

34 



398 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 

report as loud as that of a gun, and to bury itself several feet in 
the earth. 

Elihu Burritt, the "learned blacksmith," delivered a lecture last 
evening before some one of the many literary societies of the capi- 
tal, upon the " dignity of human labor." He was warmly greeted 
on commencing, and his address was reported to have been re- 
ceived with enthusiastic applause. The laborious student was 
under, it was said, the patronage of a wealthy and benevolent 
quaker, and was being worshipped as a prodigious literary lion by 
the elevated and philanthropic portion of the capital. 

Sunday, 2Qth. Set off in order to attend a Sabbath-meeting of 
the Society of Friends. A four-years' residence, nearly, among 
these excellent people, in the United States, had so endeared to 
me their latent but manifold virtues of character, that I felt a 
strong inward delight at the prospect of again sitting with them 
in their humble and quiet waiting upon the breathing inspiration 
of the Divine Spirit. A traveller's curiosity, doubtless, mingled 
with the feeling I possessed. It will be recollected, that it was in 
England this sect had its origin about the middle of the seventeenth 
century, under the guidance of George Fox, that fearless apostle 
of a purer and more spiritual worship ; and I esteemed it a gratify- 
ing inquiry to observe, as I might, how far the distant branches of 
the society, thrown off by a relentless persecution, still preserved 
the lineaments of the parent-trunk. Before proceeding far, I had 
the good fortune to overtake a man whom, at a glance, I should 
have recognized, the world over, as a veritable Quaker. Availing 
myself of a traveller's privilege, I at once accosted him with the 
request that he would set me on the way to a Friends' meeting. 
Without slackening his measured pace, and scarcely turning a look 
upon me, he sedately replied, " I am just going there myself, and 
thou can come along with me." He entered readily, but cau- 



QUAKER TEUTHFULNESS. 399 



tiously, into conversation with me, on matters toucliing his society ; 
but when he discovered that I had myself lived with the Friends, 
had heard a number of their eminent preachers, and was famihar 
with the controversy then going on between the Hicksites and 
Gurneyites, his face gradually brightened up, his step became 
quicker, and his tongue more free, showing that the force of morai 
ideas cannot always fuUy subdue the impulses of nature. I was 
advised of our approach to the meeting rather by my friend's re- 
lapsing into his former calmness of manner, than from any visible 
indications around. We soon, however, entered a narrow arch- 
way, leading into a court, where, in front of a partially concealed 
edifice of humble proportions, stood some half-dozen men of dif- 
ferent ages, awaiting the hour of meeting. Here, after a moment's 
tarry, the Friend approached, and in a low tone observed : " Some 
little affairs to be attended to in the room call me in. When it 
pleases thee to do so, thou can follow after." The company now 
began to gather, passing along by me into the room, — the men 
with a serious deportment, and the women, both young and old, 
with a steadfast, downward look, and with faces as destitute of the 
play of emotion as polished marble. Presently, the people hav- 
ing gone in, without receiving further invitation, I was led to 
adopt the suggestion of the Friend, to pass in unaccompanied ; 
but I must confess to a slight trepidation, as, on issuing into the 
room, the extended methodical array of black bonnets and broad- 
brimmed hats struck my view. A seat was immediately assigned 
me, combining in its selection respect for a stranger, and dignity to 
their order. The room, capacious enough for five hundred per- 
sons, was of the style of a fashionable lecture-room, possessing not 
a vestige of that homely finish, and those quaint internal arrange- 
ments which characterize so peculiarly the quaker meeting-houses 
I have seen among us. The session of deathlike stillness and mo- 



400 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



tionless attitude lasted about one hour and a half, being interrupt- 
ed but once by any exercise whatever. Then, the deep-measured 
tones of the speaker, united with the energy and pathos of lan- 
guage in which he portrayed his ideal of paradise, was greatly 
heightened by the profound stillness of the room and the spiritual 
sympathy among the company. The meeting was broken up, pre- 
ceded as usual by simultaneous shaking of hands among the male 
members. I at first set off on a route away from my hotel, — but 
after some five-minutes' walk returned upon my course. On ar- 
rivino" near the meeting-house, who should I meet at an angle of 
the street but the same afore-mentioned Friend, who had all the 
time been awaiting my coming, with a martyr's patience. He ac- 
companied me a few streets down, when, after explaining to me 
minutely the arrangements for their weekly meetings, he took a cor- 
dial leave, saying that he would have invited me with him to dinner, 
but for the illness of his wife. What a contrast does the manner of 
this man form, mused I, to that of the world in general ! What 
candor, what freedom from false-seeming ! The current of his so- 
cial nature has not been choked up by the shifting sands of a great 
city. I have often thought that the Quakers, despite their sedate, 
serious tone, their stiff, ungraceful manner, were really the most 
polite people in the world. If true politeness be kindness kindly 
expressed, then they most certainly possess largely of the cardinal 
virtue. At least, the genuine, substantial current of their inter- 
course is delightfully refreshing to such as are favored with their 
society. 

In the afternoon, I made a long and leisurely stroll in the en- 
virons of the capital. I will not attempt here what has baffled 
the skill of more able pens, namely, to embody a faithful descrip- 
tion of English rural scenery. 

March 21th. Spent the forenoon visiting the National Schools, 



LONDON SHOPKEEPERS. 401 

at West-End. The organization and mode of teaching were after 
the Normal school, already mentioned. Corporeal punishment 
and emulation were both employed. The teaching seemed effi- 
cient, and the scholars advanced, for their age. Afterwards, looked 
into the New House of Lords. The room is superbly rich, yet 
it did not strike my taste favorably. It was of rectangular 
form, instead of being semi-circular, and the seats, arranged for 
noble members to face the sides of the room, instead of the speak- 
er's desk. The throne of the queen, situated over the speaker's 
desk, seemed too high for appropriateness. 

An incident befel me on my return homeward, so humorous 
that I can hardly forbear narrating it. While crossing a street, a 
jolly-faced mulatto approached me, bearing in his hand a finely 
rigged miniature vessel, and accosted me in French. By his 
bland tone and complaisant manner, it was evident he wished to 
flatter me into a purchase. At last said I to him. How happened 
it, my good fellow, that you knew I was a Frenchman ? " Knew 
it, knew it," he repeated, with imperturbable sang-froid, "anybody 
would know that by your figured 

March 28th. Spent the day in making purchases previously 
to my departure on the morrow. I was highly pleased with the 
dignified ease, and honorable bearing of the London shopkeepers. 
I met with no such thing as bantering or falling upon prices ; and 
I was informed such a thing was unknown, especially in the more 
respectable stores. The shops are kept by men, instead of women 
as in Paris ; but there is a polished and quiet ease in the tone of 
the gentleman by whom you are waited on, that puts you in the 
happiest frame of mind. In one of the princely shawl stores that I 
had entered for a purchase, the principal shopman, on learning that 
I was from the United States, was delighted to see me. It seemed 
that he himself had been a merchant in New York, Boston, and 

34* 



402 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



Albany, and had travelled extensively in the United States. 
He appreciated deeply the strong features in the character of 
the New World; and we were soon in the most glowing con- 
verse, expatiating upon the grandeur of American scenery. Some 
dozen of the clerks soon surrounded us, hanging with fixed 
attention upon our accents, when one of them broke out in this 
wise : " Well, uncle, I hope Heaven will spare my life to visit the 
United States of North America, for I really believe the whole 
world besides is nothing to be compared to it." 

March 2^th. At six, in the morning, we were gliding over the 
unruffled surface of the Thames, under tow of a modest little 
steamer, with the great London world receding in the distance. 
Homeward bound ! What emotions of joy does not the reality 
bring to the heart of the traveller ! 

1 would gladly extend this narrative to include the more peculiar 
incidents of our homeward passage, but space fails ; and I do not 
doubt the good-natured reader who has in imagination accompanied 
me thus far upon our route, will now be wilhng to part my com- 
pany for other society. 

Now, in separating, let me affectionately press thy hand, dear 
reader ; and express the hope, that we may never feel the less 
friendly for this journey, made together through so interesting a 
portion of this bright world of ours. Rather, may our acquaint- 
ance ripen into a friendship, which shall extend through the en- 
tire journey of life, and be consummated in our spiritual exis^ 
tence. 



CHAPTEE XXVII. 



ETJKOPEAN SCHOOLS. 



Feeling that a portion of our community, deeply interested in 
the glorious cause of education, would naturally expect something 
further said of European systems, than may be found in the nar- 
rative of this work, I had drawn up, in a chapter by itself, a few 
such conclusions upon the subject, as, after mature deliberation, I 
have arrived at with the clearest certainty. The manuscript of 
this, in being transmitted to the printer by mail, by some means 
miscarried ; and now, after having vainly waited for the due arri- 
val of the straying leaves, and the press being ready for finishing 
the work, I am constrained to supply, as well as I may in the very 
brief time permitted me, the accidental omission. 

Let me premise, in the outset, that so different are the social 
and political institutions of European countries and our own, that 
an intelligent development of their school-systems, and a just 
comparison of them with ours, would require the space of a vol- 
ume, instead of that of the few pages here allotted. Little more 
T^ill therefore be now expected than the mere statement of my 
views ; and it should be remembered further, that I refer, in my 
observations, particularly to France and Belgium. 

SCnOOL-HOUSES. 

I am free to state that I saw no public-school edifices superior, 
on the w^hole, to the best of the same class found in Boston, and 
some of her sister cities of New England. The school-rooms 
were, however, generally better ana more fully supplied with 
apparatus and various ingenious contrivances for aiding teacher 
and pupil. 



404 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD. 



PUBLIC SCHOOL-SYSTEM.. 



Ill compreliensiveness of plan, in thorough organization, and in 
efficiency in execution, the European systems of public education 
must continue to remain, for some time at least, vastly superior to 
our own. The reason for this is obvious. The entire subject of 
public instruction is there in the hands of the government. This 
central power selects its agents from the most highly educated and 
philanthropic citizens of the state, who can be governed by no 
other motive, than to devise and carry out, in full consummation, 
the most complete system of instruction of which the human mind 
can conceive. And it is needless to say that this is faithfully done. 
Quite different is it with us. Here, the matter of maintaining 
public schools is left very much to the people at large. It is evi- 
dent that the standard of instruction cannot, from the nature of the 
case, rise much above the common intelhgence. By our system, 
then, the genius of education is constantly forced to appeal, so to 
speak, to ignorance for support. Now ignorance is incapable of 
appreciating the soul-cravings of education. Hence our school- 
system must continue to drag its slow length along, in snail-like 
imbecility. Still, there are gratifying features in our common- 
school system. For instance, we may feel encouraged in knowing 
that our public schools will continue to improve, in proportion 
as education is more widely diffused among the masses. The spirit 
of improvement will grow upon what it feeds. Again, we may 
feel assured that our progTess is permanent. There can possibly 
be no reaction. In Europe, the system being immediately under 
the direction of the Government, may be modified or even swept 
away altogether, by a change of Government ; but here, springing 
directly from the bosom of the people, it is as lasting as the granite 
of our everlasting hills. 



INTELLECTUAL PROGRESS OF THE PUPIL. ^5 



IXTELLECTUAL PROGRESS OF THE PUPIL. 

Notwithstanding tlie greater efficiency of their school-system, 
the pupils generally, in such of the common branches as are duly 
taught in our schools, did not appear more advanced, for their age, 
nor to have been better instructed, than scholars of a similar class 
with us. For this, there are several reasons ; two of which I can 
hardly forbear naming. One arises from the fact that there, the 
children of the better classes more generally attend the private 
schools, than with us. Their public schools are thus made up 
more fully of the children of the lower orders, and are conse- 
quently, to a greater extent, deprived of that efficient home- 
influence, for which nothing can make amends in a school. The 
other reason arises from that condition of European society which 
renders it next to impossible for a person to rise to a superior 
social position from the one in which he happens to be born. 
Thus the European pupil feels that, in a great measure, his social 
fate is sealed ; that however studious he may be, there is but little 
chance that any ordinary intellectual suiDeriority he may acquire, 
will enable him to advance from the situation in which the acci- 
dents of birth have placed him. This conviction constantly hanging 
over him, like an incubus, freezes his mental ardor, and paralyzes 
a powerful incentive to study. On the contrary, the pupil in our re- 
publican school-room, is, in this respect, quite differently and more 
happily situated. He is constantly made aware, by thousands of 
bright, living examples, that the path of honor and emolument, in 
his country, is open to the humblest ; and that however obscure 
and unpropitious may have been the circumstance of his own 
birth, he has only to put properly forth his inborn energies, and 
he may reach the highest station withing the gift of the people. 
This animating thought naturally awakens the latent forces of his 



406 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. 



being, supplying in a great measure the place of books and teacher. 
Hence, our common-school scholars will accomplish more, bj less 
means, than the same class in European schools. 

PRIVATE SCHOOLS. 

It cannot for a moment be questioned that the private institu- 
tions of Europe aiford by far more ample means for a full and 
complete education, than do the educational establishments of our 
own country. This naturally arises from the higher standard of 
education among the educated classes, the fostering care of Gov- 
ernment, the munificence of individuals, and the ampler means at 
hand for illustrating educational subjects ; but it is owing (more 
than to anything else), to the principle of the extreme division of 
labor which is so fully carried out in every department of life in 
Europe. In a private school of any pretensions in Europe, there 
may usually be found a Professor for each branch or department 
of instruction. It is needless to say, that a school , thus circum- 
stanced, affords advantages for careful instruction in the several 
branches, which cannot exist where, — as in many of the acade- 
mies in our own country, — the principal is obliged to teach sev- 
eral or all of the various branches of his programme. Still, even 
here, we enjoy a compensating advantage. For instance, the prin- 
cipal advantage of a school is its moral influence, — the moulding, 
transforming power of the teacher over the pupil. The Euro- 
pean professor, though more learned, is but partially developed. 
Many of his powers have been neglected in order to afford a fuller 
growth to others. He is thus an incomplete man, and however 
competent to give instruction in his favorite branch, possesses not 
that fuhiess and completeness of character, which constitute the 
highest form of man, and whose magic influence lies in his inde- 
finable manner, tone of voice, beaming of the eye and fervor of 



ORDEE IN SCHOOLS. 407 



expression. Now, the American school-master, from the neces- 
sity of being obliged to attend to many branches of learning, 
thereby gets a more general intellectual development, and from 
being forced into the practical relations of life, obtains a more 
efficient bearing of manner ; and this advantage may compensate 
for his inferiority in some one chosen department of learning. 

ORDER. 

As I have elsewhere said, corporal . punishment in the public 
schools is prohibited by law. In the private establishments it is 
treated as an obsolete idea. In our own country, the majority of 
intelligent educators have come to the conclusion that it should be 
used only as a last resort. But the French and Belgian authori- 
ties seem to have imbibed the idea, that if allowed at all, the 
trouble is, that this last resort will come too soon ; and instead of 
being made the exception, it will gradually become a principal 
means of government. Hence, they have banished it entirely. 
Whether their school-masters would succeed equally well with our 
scholars, who are under less parental restraint, and so early be- 
come imbued with ideas of independence, I will not undertake to 
predict. 

DRAV/ING. 

Drawing is made an indispensable branch in all schools, public 
and private. It is pursued not only as a means of improving the 
taste, and cultivating a love for the beautiful, but as having an 
important relation to the practical business of life. An artizan 
would hardly expect to attain to superiority in his calling without 
a good knowledge of drawing. Undoubtedly, the superiority of 
the French, in the grace and beauty of their fabrications, may be 
attributed in a good degree to their thorough knowledge of this 
branch. 



408 CEESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WOELD 



SINGING. 

Singing is taught in all the schools. It is made essential, and 
is as common as reading. Children, from an early age, are 
thoroughly drilled in the elements, and the practice is made a 
concert exercise to enliven and gladden the air of the school- 
room. And further, it is deemed of vital importance in softening 
the manners, refining the feelings, and preparing the soul for the 
impression of noble and elevating sentiments. No singing exer- 
cises to which I have listened m the schools of this country, will 
favorably compare with such as I heard in European schools. 

SEPARATION OF THE SEXES. 

It is a marked feature in the European schools, that the sexes 
are not taught in the same school, as is often done with us. At 
least, no such schools came under my observation. Nor could I 
learn of any arrangement of the kind. Females are generally 
employed for teaching girls, and gentlemen, for boys. I believe 
the ojDinion is gaining ground among the more intelligent educa- 
tors in this country, that a mixed school, of boys and girls, of 
limited number, taught by males and females, unites the more fa- 
vorable conditions for healthy progress. At least, it seems more 
in accordance with nature ; and, if permitted to speak, I would 
add my own observation and experience in its favor. Such a 
school requires, it is true, a firmer character, and more skill in the 
principal. 

MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

This is recognized in the plans of instruction, and its importance 
clearly enforced upon the teachers. In most schools, the pupils 
are weekly, and sometimes oftener, accompanied by their teachers 
to the churches, where they receive religious instruction from an 
ecclesiastic appointed for the purpose, while exercises of a re- 
ligious character, in many schools, are a daily exercise. 



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